Birds of Prey
by Almapenzare
Summary: On an espionage mission deep into the lands of Noxus, recent arrival to the league Quinn finds her avian partner keeps on disappearing in the night. Finally she grows tired of it and follows him to discover why. What she discovers leads her life on a path she'd never expected. Becoming friends with the tyrant of Noxus himself, and, in a more painful turn of fate, leaving Demacia
1. Chapter 1

**_ONE_**

**_TREASONOUS LOVE_**

Quinn was one of the elite of Demacia, the city of purity, of justice and beauty, growing up in the rural outskirts, every day she had longed to become a great hero, and after the death of her brother, and her encounter with her new one, she was one. With the aid of her Eagle, Valor, the only remaining Demacian eagle in the known world, Quinn was the greatest scout Demacia had, after finally ascending to the city itself when she joined it's top cadre, she had found it too boring, too lacking in adventure. So now this is where she lived, behind enemy lines. Together, they were the wings of Demacia

Quinn was getting worried. She'd been sent on a reconnaissance mission to the woods near the city state of Noxus, and every night for the past week, Valor had disappeared. She didn't know where to but tonight she hoped to find out. There was always a trail to follow, even her best friend left one if you knew where to look. A disturbed branch here, a rather terrified squirrel there. She had been brought up to see those little trails, the hints that no one else saw, that's why she It was simply a matter of patience and an obscenely keen eye, and so it was that this night, she found why her bird was disappearing so, and what, or rather who it was causing him to do this.

After abandoning their small well hidden camp, with its minimal comforts of a fire, tent to protect her from the weather, and a bedroll. All her supplies she kept on her back, so she couldn't bring much. The master scout began making her way through the dense woods of pine and oak, not noticing the leaves as she brushed through them, or that damp smell of a forest in rest; following those small hints towards her quarry. She fell into something a reverie, like she always did when on the hunt, focused purely on the clues and the goal they led to. When a voice burst into being amongst the quiet noises of the forest night, that reverie was shattered like a dropped mirror.

"Beatrice! Beatrice where are you?!" Came a man's voice further to the north, a voice so deep to sound like two rocks grinding together, or Malphite with a cold. Quinn's head snapped up to look about spasmodically, her manner ever so reminiscent of the bird she had come to love. She couldn't risk discovery this close to Noxian territory. With the reputation their jailors and executioners had, that was sure to be the last mistake she ever made. Moving so fast so to be a blur she clambered her way up into the dense greenery of the tree's, hoping they would provide adequate cover to shield herself from the owner of the voice, for whom she scanned for now. Her eyes glimmering through the green to the ground as she searched for any sign of him. The height she'd climbed to gave her a much better vantage point, near enough to a bird's eye view. She had a much wider field of vision up here. Now she could see him, walking by a lake only a few dozen yards away was the caller, and when she recognised him, she nearly fell from that tree.

She recognised this man instantly, she'd been taught to hate him ever since joining the military. This was the Noxian's greatest tool, this man was the man who had been leading the Noxian's to victory for years, he was the man who had recently gained rulership of the city-state through his own tactical genius, his own wit and power. This was the man who'd caused the deaths of so many Demacian's over the years. The man walking not fifty metres from her was the master tactician himself, Swain, the Tyrant of Noxus. But... He did not look now as she though he would. He was not dressed as she would expect, he did not wear the thick red robes, nor the hawk like helm and feather laden pauldrons, all he wore was a dark green scholars robe and a bandanna up around his mouth, she got the feeling this was just what he wore when he was by himself in his home, the public eye never meant to see their ruler without his ceremonial gear. She knew this man was to be hated, and that he had every reason to hate her as he did every other member of the Demacian elite, seeing as she had killed many of his men over years. But right now, as he called pitifully for his friend, limping along the lake shore with the aid of hi. What it was that had brought this impairment, and the original injury, a horrific break in his leg, near enough snapped in two; was a mystery to all but the tyrant himself. He'd pause periodically to cough painfully into a closed fist. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, he didn't look like a conqueror right now. Just a lonely old man looking for his friend. Though she had to wonder who this Beatrice was, she'd certainly never heard of the Tyrant having even a friend, let alone a lover.

But with yet another start her musings were broken, as an eagles call came from the east, *her* eagles call. With nary another thought spared for the poor man below, she set off leaping from branch to branch, she'd found Valor. Her hunt drew to a close.

Soon enough she reached the location of the call, stopping only a few tree's away from where it had come from. Peering over a rather thick branch, she finally caught sight of her missing friend, there he sat, curled against another bird. Another bird!? So this was why he had been leaving her, he'd found a mate, he'd found someone who mattered more to him than her.

She moved closer to get a better look at the pair, realising now that they already had a nest, to which they both now lay asleep in. When she was barely a meter from the peaceful pair she stopped paying attention to her friend, focusing purely on his companion. It was a black raven, larger than any she had seen before. It's sleek black feathers were at a contrast with her own birds rough sea storm blue ones. There was something familiar about the bird. She swore she knew this bird from somewhere, but as she stared at it the only image that came to mind was that lonely man looking for his friend, that Tyrant brought low she saw wandering through the forests. Then she realised who this was, this bird. There was only one bird smart enough for Valor. And that bird was the one that lived on a Tyrant's shoulder. The bird that currently had its cheek rested against Valor's in their slumber was none other than the one that man searched for far behind her, this was Beatrice.

This was the companion of the Tyrant of Noxus.

Valor had fallen for Beatrice. Valor had fallen for the enemy.


	2. Chapter 2

_**TWO**_

_**TO MEET A TYRANT**_

Well that certainly cleared a few things up, it explained why the Tyrant of Noxus was out on his own in the middle of the night, he was looking for his missing bird just like she was. He wasn't going to waste his men on searching for his pet, he *was* meant to be a master tactician. Of course what Quinn was thinking right now didn't so much focus on that as it did with the fact that there where eggs, her best friend had, had chicks with the lord of Noxus's bird... What was she to do? She was a Demacian, they could hardly just laugh it off and leave the two to their business. She called out to Valor, trying to wake her friend.

"Hsst!"

Valor raised his head and twitched it about blearily, looking for the source of the sound. Quickly his keen eyes focused on Quinn , he stood in the nest, waking Beatrice as he did so and letting out a quiet caaw, laden with nervous apprehension.

"No, I saw, and I know who that is. Why, Valor? Why didn't you at least tell me?"

Valor let out a more vindictive caaw as his nest-mate wearily stretched out her wings, ever the quiet one as she watched the two friends with both interest and unease.

"... Okay, good point, I would have disapproved. But still! I'm your partner Valor, we're meant to tell each other everything!"

That caused the smaller bird in the nest to cock her head to the side and trill up at Valor, he dissuaded her worries in that matter with a loving nuzzle and a quiet coo. He looked back to Quinn and flapped his wings, flying onto her shoulder and doing his best to calm her in turn. Beatrice followed in the simple interest of not being left out and staying close to her mate. The three's "chat" however was rather swiftly cut off by the other occupant of the forest.

"Beatrice? Please come back!... I don't..." There came the deep grind of the Lord of Noxus' voice, laced with sorrow, Quinn looked from the pair of beds resting against one another on her shoulder in its direction, and after a moment's hesitation, she spoke up.

"Uhmn... She's over here!" Quinn's own voice was almost as nervous as Valor's had been, if not moreso. She was revealing herself to the enemy but... What else was she to do? He sounded like he was about to break down into tears, and that... Well that just wouldn't be right, she knew how much a bird could mean to someone and it felt wrong not letting him see his own.

Swain limped out from the underbrush a few moments later, peering around for who had spoken, his cane driving itself into the dirt as he fidgeted with frustration. A second passed and Quinn gently lowered herself from the branches above him, landing with nary a noise as the lord tyrant blinked a few times at her, looking from her, to Valor, to Beatrice.

"Who are you?... Wait, I know you, you're that Demacian scout, the one who just joined the league. What are you doing in Noxian ground, and more importantly-" Swain's voice burned with vindictive rage as his free hand began to burn with an ethereal green flame, Quinn had heard stories from the other Demacian champions about his Torment spell and she did not wish to be on the receiving end of it. "What are you doing with Beatrice?!"

Quinn raised her hands protectively, her crossbow lay at her waist and she knew she wouldn't have time to reach it, nor did she want this to turn into a fight. "Wait I can explain!" The birds looked from their individual owners with increasing worry, Beatrice hopped from her spot on Quinn's shoulder to the roost Swain had on his own, giving her owner a nuzzle. It took some of the fire from his belly, but sadly none from his hand, though he did lower it a bit.

"Talk." Barked Swain as his hand came to worriedly stroke down the spine of his bird. Valor looked to him with a bit of jealousy, but was smart enough to remain where he was for the time being.

Knowing this was the only chance she'd get, Quinn did her best to formulate her thoughts before finally opening her mouth to speak. "Valor here has been going missing every night for the past week or so, I managed to follow him this time and when I caught up to him, I found him asleep up there-" She raised a hand to the nest above their heads, "with Beatrice... They um... There's eggs up there." Beatrice had the decency to not look at her owner as Quinn said that, nervous as to how he'd react, she was at least as smart as Valor if not nearly as boisterous or proud as her mate. Swain's eyes slowly widened as the young Demacian explained and the fire in his hand burnt itself out, he looked away from Quinn, to his only close friend in the world.

"Beatrice... Is she telling the truth?" His voice... Well it was undecided, he didn't mind the idea of Beatrice finding a mate... But a Demacian? In answer, Beatrice looked to Valor and he hopped from Quinn's shoulder to join his mate on Swain's roost, she nuzzled eagerly into the downy feathers of his neck.

Quinn was at this point, beginning to relax the tiniest bit, she wasn't dead yet, even if her mission was a complete and utter failure seeing as she'd just revealed herself to the man in charge himself. But... Well again, it had seemed the right thing to do. Now the only question, was how to do right by Valor. She was hardly inclined to force her best friend to abandon his new found family. Swain's thoughts were going down a similar track, and as the two birds looked to him for permission to leave, he only nodded and waved for Quinn to follow as the two birds fled back to his nest. Picking his cane back up from where it lent against a tree, the tyrant began limping off towards the lake Quinn had first spotted him by. Hurriedly the young scout chased after as the birds nestled back atop their eggs, watching their owners departing once more and laying down together to go back to sleep.

Along the way, Swain's bad leg rather harshly met a uncovered root that in the darkness he had failed to see, with a pained cry the tyrant's leg gave out beneath him and he fell, Quinn, following behind let out a quiet gasp and hurried forwards catching him around the shoulders, "are you all right?" She inquired, surprising even herself with the amount of worry in her voice, must be the show of affection their birds had shared affecting her. However Swain was nowhere near as touched by the avian's and growled at her begrudgingly.

"I'm fine." He wrenched himself from her grip and she let him go, she recognised that defensiveness from the crippled soldiers she'd met, insisting they were perfectly capable of managing on their own despite their grievous disabilities. Though, considering he was a league champion, and had won his title as Tyrant in a duel, Swain was hardly a useless cripple. So she let him go, not saying a word so as not to wound his pride, giving the man a moment to collect himself before setting off with him once more. Wondering where this night would lead. Little did she know just how much Valor's new relationship would change her own life...


	3. Chapter 3

_**THREE**_

_**DUAL MOONS**_

The unlikely pair of tyrant and scout and had made their way back to the lake, the scout slowing her usual energetic pace so as not to race ahead of her limping companion. Upon reaching the lake he busied himself with slowly lowering his form onto a tree stump as Quinn felt her breath taken away, looking out over the lake she could see twin full moons, one bright in the sky and the other on the perfectly clear water, there was nary a cloud in the sky and it was truly a beautiful and rare sight, the only noise intruding upon the scene being the quiet lapping of the lakes water against the shores. "This is quite a predicament your *pet* has gotten us all into, isn't it?" The irritable tones of the man behind her whipped her back to reality and she in turn whipped around, an instinctive response finding its way to her lips.

"Valor isn't my pet, he's my friend! He's not some dumb animal." She snarled, momentarily forgetting her place, then who she was talking to reasserted itself and the fury was pushed from her face, replaced with fear. "But... Yes, yes he has... Oh of all the birds in the world he could fall for, what are the odds of it being yours...?"

"Yes, my point exactly. But she feels the same, and it seems the pair have children on the way. So," Swain crossed his palms over the head of his cane, resting his chin upon it, his eyes clouded over as they stared at her. Seemingly lost in thought.

"So...?" Quinn inquired, quietly moving closer to sit in front of him.

"So as much as I'd enjoy to send you and yours packing back to Demacia, your head in the stow on luggage compartment for stealing into my land. I... Will not do that to Beatrice, so, Valor will be staying with her until their eggs are hatched, if not longer. I will move their nest to the roof garden of my quarters so as to be free from any predators foolish enough to try anything."

Quinn internally let out a sigh of relief, he wasn't going to hurt Valor, and he wasn't going to take him away from the bird he loved and their impending children. But... What about her? "That's... That sounds good, but... What about me? I don't want to leave Valor. I'm not going back to Demacia without him." The look in her eye gave those words credence, Valor was her closest friend in the world and she'd be damned if she was going to leave him behind in the territory of the enemy, even if he was protected there.

"That is the question, isn't it? What *do* we do about you, I suppose I could just leave you here in these forests until I could send Valor back, but that would make it harder for me to keep an eye on you, and now that I know you're here to spy on me, I'd rather you do it where I can spy back." He gave her a grim smile as one finger tapped against the shaft of his cane. "I have it, you will be coming with us to Noxus. I will take the birds with me now and in the morning you will find the uniform of one of my personal guards outside the corner of the south and west Noxian walls. With that gaining entry will be easy, and you will meet me in Haggard Stallion's tavern. From there I will take you to my quarters and that is where you will remain unless I say otherwise." She could see why this man was Tyrant, it wasn't so much what he was saying, but rather how he said it, there was no question to his words, only command. Each and every word was an absolute, and even though she was his enemy, she couldn't help but feel herself nodding in agreement and supplication.

"Yes, uh... Yes. That sounds good. But, what about the other champions?" Quinn asked, nodding along.

"What about them?" Swain growled back, raising an eyebrow.

"Well they could recognise me, I've fought alongside Katarina in the league."

Swain let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head, "You're new, and your bird is what stands out the most. You'll be fine. Now. You know as to where to get your disguise?" He said as he slowly got back to his feet, pushing himself up with the aid of his cane. She nodded in confirmation. "Good, then let us go see the happy couple." With that he turned on his heel, limping back off the way they came.

Soon enough they had once more found the birds nest, Valor was fast asleep already, but Beatrice lifted her head at their approach, giving Swain a trill in greeting. The master tactician smiled more openly than earlier as he stretched out an arm to her, letting her hop onto his wrist. "Beatrice, is it all right with you if we move your nest to the gardens above our house? It'll be safer and I'll stop worrying about you all the time." Swain's voice, like his smile was much softer as he spoke to the bird, his affection for her clear in every respect. She cocked her head and let out a faint caaw, looking back at her sleeping lover. "Yes of course he'll be coming to, as if I would ever force you to part with him." Beatrice let out a pleased trill and rubbed the top of her head against Swains chin, his smile only widened. "Wonderful. Wake him for me will you." The pair turned to look once more at Valor, only to find him already awake, staring down at them and looking over to Quinn. She gave him her best over confident grin, completely at odds with how she really felt right now.

"I'll be fine, Valor. Don't worry, I'll be meeting you there soon." Valor caaw'd and hopped to her shoulder to give her a furtive nuzzle , wrapping a wing around her neck for a moment as she in turn stroked a hand down his spine. "I'll be fine Val..." She looked to Swain as Valor released her, joining his beloved on the Tyrant's shoulder. "Look after him sir."

"I will, you should be more worried for yourself." He promised this as he reached up, gently taking hold of the birds nest and lowering it into the crook of his arm. "I'll see you on the morrow, child." With that, the tactician truly took her breath away, activating his signature raven metamorphosis, the huge humanoid bird he became completely at odds with his stately appearance of norm. Turning away from her, the creature took a few steps before vaulting itself into the air, the nest secure in its arms, and the new couple flying along either side of him, all three silhouetted against the moon. Quinn watched until they'd gone over the city walls and out of sight. With them gone, the scout was finally back where she started. Alone. And alone she made her way back to her small camp, waiting out the night till its end, sleeping fitfully in her bedroll. Nightmares of Valor being tortured and torn apart feather by feather assaulting her subconscious mind. She could only hope the Tyrant was good to his word, and see what tomorrow brought.

She'd be the first Demacian entering Noxus as anything but a prisoner in years. Fate sure dealt funny cards sometimes, no not Twisted Fate, he just dealt crooked cards; fate had handed her a hand she never thought she'd get, and now all she could do was play the game, and hope she'd live through this week. One thing did bring her some warmth in the night though, Valor was going to a father!


	4. Chapter 4

_**FOUR**_

_**BREAKING AND ENTERING WITH INVITATION**_

Quinn woke well after the sun had risen, the nights activities had exhausted her. Mentally more than physically. Not knowing when she'd have another chance the girl dined on a breakfast of porridge and those starchy, foul ration biscuits. They were supposed to be good at keeping you going through a long mission, she suspected that was just because you'd face death before wanting to eat another one of those.

After her quick but Malphite heavy breakfast, Quinn packed up her camp. She would not be coming back here no matter how things ended, so she didn't want to leave any evidence behind for a stray Noxian to find. Once that task was done, she hefted her supplies over her back and set off through the forest.

The forest seemed far more... Alive, during the day. Birds chirped in the trees, squirrel's chattered to one another in the underbrush, the sun cast the glades she passed through into stark and vibrantly coloured relief, a contrast to how nigh on monochrome they had looked during the night. Quinn had always preferred the night for moving, a place feeling alive just meant that there were more things to see her. In her haste to reach the disguise Swain had promised her, something nearly did.

Quinn spotted them before they saw her thankfully, and had ducked into cover behind a tree long before they had a chance. A Noxian patrol! Ten men, each one armed and armoured to the teeth and beyond in typical Noxian fashion. It seems they'd stopped for a quick smoke break and were idly chatting to one another on a forest path. To get to her destination, Quinn would have to make her way around them, but if they saw her... Well she doubted even the Tyrant himself would be able to save her in time. She decided her best option was to just wait them out, and tried to make herself as small as possible within the meagre cover the tree provided, crouching down, burying her head into a hedge growing alongside to so that she could peer out at them without giving them the same advantage. She waited some time, but it seemed they were wanting to make this break as long as they could get away with. When Quinn was just starting to get bored, one broke off conversation with his fellows, moving in her direction.

"_Oh no did he see me?!"_ Squealed Quinn within the muted cage of her own mind, curling up even tighter in the off chance the soldier had yet to spot her. Her hand reached for her crossbow, she took a bolt from her back just as he reached her, ready to fire. To silence him, to stop him alerting his fellows.

He undid the button on his pants.

Now Quinn really did have to resist squealing, shutting her eyes tight so as not to get a look as the man relieved himself just beside her, sighing in satisfaction and still entirely unaware of the poor girls presence. After what seemed an eternity, he shook himself, buttoned up his pants and moved back to his comrades. Moments later they all fell into step once more, finally moving on in their patrol. It took quite a time for Quinn to collect herself, still thoroughly disturbed by the man relieving himself right beside her, the smell of it utterly nauseating. After the red finally disappeared from her cheeks, she raced across the path, not wanting to waste any more time than she already had in reaching the disguise. After a few more uneventful minutes of racing across the forest floor, she finally found herself in easy sight of those towering fortified walls. Now all she had to do was find the package. She made her way along the wall until she hit the corner, this was where the tactician said he would leave it for her and sure enough, there it was. A small paper parcel, tossed from the walls and lying just shy of a meter from them. She eagerly ran to it and tore the parcel open, revealing the clothes that would be her ticket to safety. They were... Well from seeing some of the Noxian champions, about what she expected. A long black hooded greatcoat with sleeves long enough to devour her hands, a golden trim running all along, a thick, layered undershirt that seemed to be laced with mail, and finally a pair of black tight fitting leather leggings. Not exactly her preferred dress, but at least she didn't look nearly as skimpy as Katarina. Plus the hood would make it harder for any who had met her before to recognise her.

She packed her own clothes into her backpack along with the rest of her supplies, not as eager to abandon those as she had been her camp before finally beginning to make her way along the wall looking for a gate. And eventually she found one.

It was as heavily guarded as the reputation of Noxus would suggest, and each guard looked far more alert than the patrol guard had been, that got Quinn's hackles raising, was this disguise going to work? Would they stop her and ask for some kind of identification, or would they be like Swain had said and care more about the uniform than the girl inside. All she could so was put her best foot forward and hope for the best, there was no turning back once she was inside.

She approached the gate. Having already pulled her hood up on her approach, she let her features sink deeper into its shadows, her hands hiding within linked sleeves behind her back to disguise the fact that one still firmly held her crossbow. She nodded to the guards, hopinthey would recognise the uniform and not as any questions.

"Hoi, what's one of your lot doing outside the city. Don't see much lately worth sending one of the golden boys out." Called one of the girls as she got near in a casual tone, idly twirling the polearm he held with one hand, seems he was pretty experience with the deadly weapon. But his words had served as an even greater weapon as they sent her mind reeling, frantically trying to think up a reason, to get in the mindset of a Noxian soldier. She thought of recent events, the incident at Kalamanda occurred to her, and the end of the journal of Justice, a print she'd actually rather enjoyed until it had been shut down. She had it. Adopting the tone of voice she'd usually reserve for reports to her superiors, she gave the soldier a clipped explanation without stopping her step.

"Investigations into the Kalamanda incident and Journal of Justice's editor in chief's involvement. A delegate from each city involved was sent to review evidence and aid in the prosecution."

"Oh... Well fair enough then," the soldier replied, not making a single move to stop her as she stepped through the stone portal and into the city of Noxus itself. The architecture was not at all like that of which she was familiar with back home in Demacia, where the streets were wide and the buildings bright and friendly, here they were thin, tightly packed with the citizenship, and the air carried the scent of blood wherever you went, conversations were hushed in the streets, for fear of the spies that may be listening, the tall, dark and foreboding buildings staring over them and casting them into shadow like threatening giants over gaggles of children.

She had passed her first challenge with nary a scratch, now she just had to survive the city itself. She was hesitant to ask for directions so for now she just decided to do a sweep of all the streets around the gate. She just hoped Swain was there, it was an odd thing to think but at this point, the tyrant of Noxus was the only lifeline she had, and if she couldn't find him her chances of ever seeing her beloved Valor again were down the Latrine.


	5. Chapter 5

_**FIVE**_

_**A LETTER OF KISSES**_

Quinn wandered the streets of Noxus, slowly getting into the monotonous rhythm of the crowd, letting its flow carry her along. Despite all her fears, all her trepidations and prejudices, she couldn't help but find this place interesting. It's people, though dressed grimly, all looking ready for battle, with none of the fashion or flare of Demacian dress; all held themselves like nobility, each and every one of them walked with pride and confidence, it was so different to Demacia where all bowed and made way for the highborn. Here everyone held themselves like *they* were the highborn, from the bakers to the basket weavers, they all walked free of fear in the city of blood.

She had to admit, she kind of liked it, a smile unconsciously found it was onto her lips as she walked alongside a mercenary, his body strapped with throwing knives and a common clerk, dressed in a pressed suit, they couldn't be more different, and anywhere else the first would sneer at and tease the second, but here in Noxus they only nodded to each other with comradely respect. They were both Noxians, they were both free in this place to make their own path. In Demacia you had your destiny chosen for you, a child born to noble blood was to go on to be a captain in the military, the head of a company, or a member of the kings council. But here you made your own way in life, you chose your path, your destiny was in your hands, and every step you took along it was thanks to the sweat of your own brow. They might not be as nice a people, but they were not as subjugated a one either. She understood now why it was the Noxian's held themselves with such pride. From the man scrubbing the latrines to the tyrant himself, each and everyone knew they had control of their own life, no one was powerless here.

These musings kept her mind busy as her eyes tracked from building to building, looking for signs, the sounds of drinking and drunken carousing: any hint as to where she would be meeting the Tyrant who had her best friend. So, with her eyes so locked a good head above the crowd, she never saw the hand coming from that alleyway, and just like that. She was no longer part of the crowd, a hand grasped her by the arm and tore her from it, tore her from the warmth of its embrace and into the night black shadows of an alley. She wasn't a Noxian now, if she wasn't careful she'd just be another river of blood in the cities gutters.

Her hand came up, a bolt already loaded into her crossbow, she planted the muzzle firmly on her assailants stomach as they pinned her to a wall, their forearm planted on her neck. Even in the darkness of the alley there was enough light to give a glint to the long blade she saw them holding in their other hand. Who was this? Why were they attacking one of Swain's personal guard? Why was the crowd just moving along as if there was nothing wrong? Couldn't they see her? Her eyes moved frantically as her trigger finger began to slowly tighten.

"I know who you are, scout." said her assailant, slowly leaning forwards, their, no... Her features were caught in the thin crack of light that fell upon the alley from above, allowing Quinn to finally see who she was. The long flowing pale red mane, the glimmering emerald eyes, that unparalleled deadly beauty, marred only by a thin scar over one eye. This was the sinister blade, the Noxian's greatest assassin. The woman who had her pushed against the wall, and who's stomach she now pointed her crossbow at had sent dozens of Demacians, great and small to their deaths. If she pulled that trigger now, it was unlikely she'd have any hope at escaping here alive.

Because her life was no longer in her own hands.

Katarina held it tight.

"Wh-what do you want? How do you know who I am?!" The pressure on her neck was making breathing hard, keeping her thoughts unfocused as she scrabbled in the larger, stronger girls grip. Which, thank whatever god might be watching; was beginning to loosen a little.

"Because I'm not as stupid as your average grunt, I saw you on your way in, and I saw your pretty little birdy flying over Swain's home. What are you doing here, and how did you get that outfit?" Katarina snarled back, letting go of her slowly, but swatting away the crossbow with the flat of one of her long knives, just to let Quinn know she shouldn't be stupid enough to try anything. The young scout slowly exhaled as the pressure on her neck was finally released.

"... The Tyrant's bird has fallen for mine, that's why I'm here. Swain didn't want to separate Beatrice from her new lover, that's it. He gave me the uniform to help me get in here." Murmured Quinn in return, rubbing her aching neck as she looked at the other girl in both hope and fear. Praying that was a satisfactory enough answer for her.

Katarina in turn, blinked several times at the answer, pausing quite some time before answering, putting her blade back in its leather sheath in the meanwhile. "That stories just weird enough for me to believe it, Swain always did love that bird more than anyone else. If you'd said *you* were friends with him I'd have killed you for a liar." Her hand went back, trying to get at something in the back pocket of her ludicrously tight pants.

"So... Can I go now?" Quinn hesitantly inquired as she watched Katarina. Wondering what she was doing.

"No, I won't tell anyone you're here as long as you do something for me." Grunted Katarina as she bounced on her heels, trying to pull her hand back out of the pocket. Finally she managed it and handed Quinn a slightly crumpled envelope, sealed with a lipstick kiss. "Deliver this for me when you get back to Demacia, it's for... It's for Garen." A faint red flush moved to Katarina's cheeks as Quinn's brow raised, she knew the two had worked together in Kalamanda, but she didn't think they were *this* close.

"I... Uh, I will." Quinn felt her own cheeks heating up at the other girls embarrassment, but still she couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Garen was thought to be one of the most handsome men in all of Demacia, and had many girls trying for his affection, even Quinn had to admit to having once had a bit of a crush on him, which Valor had thoroughly disapproved of.

"And don't you dare read it." Retorted Katarina as her blush finally began to flee her cheeks.

"I promise! Uh... I don't suppose...?"

"What?" Snapped Katarina, this was taking too long.

"Well, can you give me directions to the Haggard Stallion tavern? I'm a bit lost." Quinn gave her a weak smile, knowing she'd probably wandering the streets for many more hours if she didn't ask someone.

"What? Oh, yes, 3 blocks down, second on the right, you'll see the sign." Katarina waved her off, telling her to get moving, she seemed rather distracted and was in fact, busy thinking of how Garen would react to her letter.

"Thank you!" Called back Quinn, off and running, eager to escape the terrifying assassin the moment she knew where she was going, even if the woman's intimidating presence was a tad harmed by the fact that Quinn was now delivering a love letter for her. Katarina didn't respond, and moments after Quinn had left the alley, she'd disappeared into the darkness once more, off on other, more important tasks.

Meanwhile, Quinn finally found herself rejoining the crowd, dodging between its currents until she was swept towards her destination. In no time at all compared to her mind numbing search from before, she'd found the sign, a stallion with a dozen swords sticking from its back, head down and panting, certainly an... Evocative sign. She pulled her head deeper into the shadows of her hood. She could only hope Swain was still here, and that she didn't run into any more trouble along the way.

Of course, life's never that simple.


	6. Chapter 6

_**SIX**_

_**SIBLING LOVE**_

As Quinn stepped into the tavern, the warmth, smell and noise of the room hit her like a wave, washing over her, the smell of well over a dozen bodies pressed in close together in a hot room, and the noise of all of those people talking together forming the true atmosphere of a bar. In the confines of her thick jacket she suddenly felt very hot indeed, and as she looked around, her nervousness only increased the heat. The place was packed, and not by any normal civilians, this seemed to be a bar exclusively for the Military, and there was not a single person here without some kind of we-... Okay there was one, but his shield was a better weapon than any simple soldiers sword. But, as she walked towards the bar counter, looking for signs of Swain, she realised the bar held a group far worse than the common military man.

Champions.

It seemed this was the watering hole of choice for the League champions of Noxus. There was the dreaded chemist, sitting with a ludicrously fat giant in the corner over the bar, locked in tense conversation. A single look at those burning yellow eyes was enough to send shivers of fear down Quinn's spine, the mad chemist was responsible for more Demacian and Ionian deaths than any other, his chemical weapons spread throughout the battlefield killing all they touched, whether they Noxian, Demacian, Ionian or even just an animal in the wrong place at the worst possible time. If any Noxian deserved the title of monster, it had to be Singed and his former master, the one who had taught him that vile deathly art, Wawick. Who, Quinn realised as she fought to tear her eyes from the vista, was currently fast asleep beneath Singe's table. Truly he was naught but a beast now.

Finally she managed to tear her eyes away from the table and its occupants, casting them around the room once more. A voice dominated one side of the room, gravelly but not at all like Swain's cool commanding tones, this was filled with pride and disdain. There was no respect in this voice, only self-admiration.

"He thought he could get away, heh heh heh, I have to admit, the brat was smarter most. He didn't run straight he bobbed and weaved. Course that didn't prove any problem for me! Hah hah, my first throw took off his arm, but you'll- you'll never guess, he kept on going, he stumbled a bit, then just kept on running, but my next throw took off his head-HAhahaah, it landed in some old woman's purse. I could hear her screeching all the way from the execution block. Yep, that prisoner was good, but he was still no match for Draaaven." The speaker finished to the applause of his sycophantic retinue as he swept a hand through his long mane, grinning at their admirations and compliments. Quinn felt her gorge rising at how casually he talked about killing a man, how he talked about it as if it was nothing but sport. She knew that name, he was the Noxian's famed executioner, gaining the recognition he so craved by making the killing of prisoners a spectacle. Only one member of his group wasn't applauding, a much larger man with a huge axe strapped across his back, his face bore an eerie familial resemblance, he only looked down upon his younger brother with disdain as he lent against the wall. This had to be the older brother, Darius, one of Noxian's greatest soldiers. Quinn was a little surprised by how disgruntled he seemed by his brothers ranting, but she guessed either he'd heard the story a thousand times before or he thought his brothers bragging over killing an unarmed and defenceless man was pointless and disgusting.

Quinn hoped it was the latter.

"Ey! Ey miss, you gonna stand there all day or you gonna order some'tin'?" Her attention was dragged away from the siblings by a voice right by her ear, turning about she saw the barkeep before her, absently cleaning a filthy glass with an even filthier rag. She was for a moment flabbergasted, having never thought of actually stopping to have a drink here. Far too tense for the pleasurable activity of drowning ones worries in drink to have ever occurred to her.

"I... What do you have?" She decided she may as well have something while she was here, it had been hours since breakfast and, being totally truthful to herself, she was starting to get really rather thirsty. The barkeep had just opened his mouth to speak when his eyes darted to her right, a heavy mans arm falling across her shoulders and a heady blast of alcohol laced breath bringing her gorge up once again.

"Get the pretty lady something strong, _on me_~" Came that voice once more, so filled with pride. Oh good lord, not only had Draven seen her watching him tell his tale, he was hitting on her. A shiver of disgust, far more pronounced than the one of horror seeing the mad chemist had brought on found its way down her neck, bouncing off her spine and all of her extremities. The barkeep rolled his eyes as he turned away from the pair, having seen Draven pull this routine many a time before, as he poured the requested inhibition stripping drink, Draven lightly turned Quinn to face him, grinning dirtily down at her from under his long, flowing and surprisingly well kempt moustache. "I saw you watching me. I know, it's hard for even the best soldiers to resist me, nothing to be ashamed of." As she opened her mouth to respond, raising a hand in protest, she found a meaty, callused finger laid across her lips and a stein shoved into her hand. "Sh-sh-shh, I know, you don't need to say it, I'm the most handsome man you've ever met aren't I? Of course I am, there was never any doubt on thAGH!" Quinn's patience had reached its end. Her nerves already stretched thin by the path Valor had forced her down they'd most assuredly been snapped by this self important, stupid, ugly, boastful, rude oaf. Her hand had come up, smacking him hard across the cheek with all the strength military training and feminist pride could muster. Which was more than enough to make Draven lose his footing, stumbling into the puddle of his own dropped drink and crashing down on his rump. The entire bar erupted in laughter, even those who had been applauding his story earlier, all were glad to see the self-aggrandizing executioner brought low for once, especially his brother, who's booming laughter drowned out everyone else's as his iron shod gauntlets clanged against one another repeatedly in salute to the woman who'd finally shut his little brother up. Quinn couldn't help but grin underneath her hood and gave the crowd a mock bow.

Only for someone to grab a hold of the cloth of her hood, practically wrenching her off her feet. "You stupid bitch! Who do you think I am! You think you can just try and embarrass me?! You think you can try and humiliate Draven!?"

"I think she succeeded!" Yelled someone from the back of the crowd.

"SHUT UP!" Draven was lost in humiliation driven fury as he pulled himself to his feet, taking one of his strange hoop handled axes from his back as he did so, his hand working its way down from the hood to her throat. Quinn now terrified at his incandescent rage, her hands grasping desperately at his to tear him away to no avail, the man's strength far greater than her own. "I'll show you what happens when you piss me off!" The bar was silent now, the laughter had ceased and the sounds of various blades being drawn could be heard all around, a military bar was a powder keg at the best of times and Draven had most assuredly lit the fuse. But then, just like that; it was snuffed out. The crowd in front of the door parted without a word as another patron entered the bar, dressed in ceremonial red robes, a long dark blue cape rolling from his feather laden pauldrons. With nary a word to those all around, the man swept up to Draven and his victim, laying not a strike upon him, but a simple, gentle hand laid upon his shoulder. And a word of warning, whispered through the folds of his mask and the steel of his helm.

"Draven, you do know that an attack upon my personal guard is an attack on me, correct? Is this a coup? Because if so I'd be glad to duel you for leadership as I did Darkwill." Swain felt no need to raise his voice, the threat it carried was as heavy as the city he ruled, even when the words themselves where only a whisper. The enraged executioners eyes widened as he realised who stood behind him, fear weakening his grip and letting Quinn to finally shake free. Falling to the ground as she rubbed her neck, gasping for breath.

"N- no sir, I was just... Teaching h-" Draven's voice was laced with fear, but the insipid fool's pride still won through, and likely would have sealed his fate if not for his brothers intervention. Darius had stepped through the crowds up behind Swain and laid a hand on the Tyrants shoulder just as the Tyrant had to his foolish younger brother.

"Sir, he's drunk and an idiot. He doesn't know when to shut his mouth. I'm sorry for him attacking your guard." He then turned to Quinn, who was shakily pulling herself back to her feet. "And I'm sorry for letting him hit on you in the first place, he's had too much to drink and I should have known it wouldn-" The older brothers conciliations were cut off by his petulant junior, who's bull-headed pride pushed him to the fore once more.

"I can talk for myself, that stupid bitch hit me I was just defending myself!" Thankfully, he failed to defend himself from the right hook that sent him to the floor out cold, his brother shaking his hand out as he reached down and hefted the fool over his shoulder with the other. He looked to Swain.

"By your leave sir."

"Well done Darius, I expect you to teach your brother some manners by the next time I see him."

"Yes sir."

Darius strode from the bar, all the patrons eyes following him out before zipping back to the lord Tyrant. Who was staring down increduously at his faux guard. Words only loud enough for her to hear escaped his mask as he began leading her out from the bar. "Trust a Demacian to bring the entire bar to a standstill. Do you not know the meaning of the word incognito, girl!"

As they stepped from the bar Quinn found her hackles rising, she'd been through a lot thanks to him being late, and wasn't exactly up for her buttons being pushed. "What was I supposed to do? Let that disgusting bastard kiss me?!"

...

That actually caused Swain to pause as he led her up the road, his cane clacking against the cobbles as they made their way towards the huge fort in the distance.

"No. My apologies. That is not a fate I would wish on anyone."


	7. Chapter 7

_**SEVEN**_

_**PAST INTRODUCTIONS**_

As the pair walked along, Quinn's usual energetic manner reasserted itself, looking up from under her hood at the man limping beside her. "So uh... How're the birds? Is your garden big enough for them?" She inquired, doing her best to give that frightening masked visage a smile. Swain looked down at her and was ready to respond with his usual disdainful rudeness but... Well saw no real reason to, the girl was young, frightened and just wanting to see her friend again. He felt he could cut her at least a little slack, she had done well in getting here after all.

"They are fine, there was plenty of room for their nest, Beatrice lived there as it was so it was simple accommodating your eagle... How did you come across such a creature? I had thought the Demacian eagles had gone extinct decades ago, and yet one has managed to win my ravens heart." Quinn was faintly surprised at the sudden willingness to talk from the Tyrant, this was the... Well Nicest was exactly the right word, the most accepting he'd been of her since they'd met. She took a moment to respond as she let the story well up from her memories.

"Well to explain, I'll have to tell you a bit about my family. My brother and I had always been adventurous, and we dreamed of being great Demacian knights like the legends we were told to teach us proper values."

Swain snorted at the word, considering Demacian values a long way from *proper*. Quinn pretended not to hear him as she continued.

"So as we grew up, we'd go exploring, leaving our town for weeks on end as we ventured out into the wild in pursuit of danger and excitement. We found all sorts over the years, abandoned Crypts and catacombs, waterfalls the height of the Demacian palace, and all sorts of creatures, the likes of which we'd never been taught about in school. But... Well one adventure, we went far, far south, into the untamed forests, the night before we went home we were attacked in our camp by..."

Her voice began to quaver as she reminded herself of the painful memories.

"By a giant spider with the voice of a young woman, it drew us from the safety of our camp by pretending to be a human calling for help, by the time we realised what was going it, it was too late and the monster had caught me in its web. My brother managed to ward it off long enough with his torch for me to cut myself down and he told me to run, promising he'd be right behind me."

"But he wasn't, was he?" Inquired Swain, the harshness of his guttural voice all but gone by now. Quinn gave a little shake of her hood.

"That was the last time I ever saw him, as I passed our camp, I heard him scream and... That was it. I went home and didn't go back there for five years, by then I had joined the military and was a successful pathfinder. If I couldn't find my brothers body I was at least going to leave a marker for him... I didn't find any sign of him or the spider there, except for a few old cobwebs, but what I did find there was a wounded bird, a wounded Demacian eagle. I took him home with me and nursed him back to health. That's how I got Valor. I don't know if there are more Demacian eagles in the wild forests, but I'm not going to look. They have their freedom there, and if we take them all for war beasts again, this time they really will be extinct." She finished, looking down at the ground with a sad smile across her lips, she had lost her brother there, but there she had found a new one. With both enraptured in the tale, neither had noticed as they passed from the city streets to the wide open foreground of the keep itself. Soldiers on patrol and on parade, training with dummies and sparring with one another in equal measure, gone was the disorderly nature of the street, here there was naught but discipline and precision. Those not locked in practise and simply out on errands would turn their head to nod respectfully at Swain as they passed, though distracted as he was he neglected to return the gesture.

"Quite a tale, I now see why he matters so much to you... I didn't choose Beatrice as you chose Valor, she chose me."

Quinn's brows went up, "what do you mean, sir? If you don't mind me asking." She, like most, knew very little about the Tyrant's past, even his advisors and right hand man, Darius, only knew that he had one day appeared in a Noxian hospice with a shattered leg and Beatrice atop his shoulder.

"... Fine, someone may as well here the tale. And you're stuck here until I deign otherwise." He paused for a moment to remove his helmet, revealing the dark green sash he wore over his neck and face in full. Keeping the helmet in the crook of his arm, he fell into step with her once more. "I was a sergeant in the Noxian military, our regiment was invading Ionian grounds, crushing all in our wake. When *he* arrived, I never learned the man's name, but I believe him long dead now. On our way through the Ionian forests after subjugating another border town, he fell upon us, his sword moved faster than any bullet, and in moments not a man stood, some tried to run but he cut them down without a moment's hesitation, I was the only one to get a hit on him, my blade caught him right under the ribs, in response his caught me on the side of the knee, he only used the flat but he hit with such force he maimed me for life. I don't know why he neglected to finish me off, but he left me there, amongst the bodies of the dead. Maybe he thought the carrion birds would finish me off. They swarmed soon enough, picking out the juiciest of the dead and feasting upon them as I began to drag myself from the field. Some decided I was to be their next feast and their weight bore me to the ground once more. That's when Beatrice arrived, I still have not discovered exactly what she is, but she is no normal raven. That I know. Her magic tore through those who make me their meal, and it was she who led me back across the border, warning me of trouble in our path. By the time I had reached Noxus once more, there was no one I would rather have by my side than her, she and I had bonded on the journey and she never saw fit to leave my side after that." Quinn was quite frankly shocked, to hear the great Tyrant admitting to weakness, admitting to being bested, admitting that it was to Beatrice he owed his life. Now she understood the sorrow she saw in him when he thought he had lost her, why it seemed he truly did not know what he was to do without her by his side. Beatrice was his guardian angel. For a long time she didn't say a word, content to follow him as they entered through the great gates of the keep, walking through the bustling halls, finally she spoke up once more, looking him in the eye with a wider smile than he had ever seen from her across her lips.

"I can see why Valor loves her. Kind, brave, smart...""

Swain blinked once at the sentiment, before nodding, though she could not see much of his face, she got the sense he was smiling underneath that sash. "Yes, he has many reasons to love her, and is indeed a very. Very, lucky bird, for having won her heart. Though I'm still not sure why she has fallen for him."

"Oh... I think I know, Valor's a wonderful bird, even if a bit brash at times, he's the most loyal and brave friend I've ever had. If he cares for her, that means he'd never let anyone or anything hurt her."

"Hmn, we shall see then. I for one wonder what their children will look like." Internally he added, _'and what I will do with you.'_ but left that thought unvoiced for now. "Enough of that though, we are nearly there." He nodded to a winding staircase at the end of the hall, beginning to ascend it with her in tow, with the small width of the stairs, and Swain's impairment, the going was very slow and Quinn found herself waiting a time for him to ascend each step while she would have leapt up them three at a time. Of course she didn't say a word, to bring up his limp would only harm his ego and more importantly, his already rather low opinion of her. Which she was hoping to improve as long as she was here, she could learn a lot about Noxus by forging a better relation with its ruler, and seeing as she was stuck with him for a time, effectively his prisoner; she'd be mad to not do so.

Finally, after what seemed to Quinn an eternity, they reached the top of the staircase and Swain threw open the door to his own private quarters. Stepping inside with the air of a man within his own palace, utter control, which in-fact he was and he had, from what was visible from the doorway, these rooms were a tad more decorated than the public rooms of the keep, one the walls hung dark green drapes, the same colour as Swain's sash, the floors were a thick, deep red velvet. The combined insulation of which, along with the thick stones that made up the walls, effectively muted all the noise from the rest of the fort, affording Swain his own, completely private space. Even her footsteps were muted and muffled by the thick, velvet of the floor. Inter-dispersed where portraits of the previous lord Generals, it seems he was not the first to make his home here and would by no means be the last.. As Quinn stepped in behind him and shut the door he turned to face her once again. "There is a spare room down that hall, you will stay there. You are not to leave the quarters without my consent, and if I hear word of you going anywhere in the keep you are not supposed to, believe me girl, what good graces your bird has garnered you will swiftly run out. Understood?" Quinn nodded frantically, the sudden threat taking her wrong footed after the much friendlier conversation preceding it. Though she understood why he said what he did, she was a spy he'd allowed entry into his own keep, where all the Noxian's plans, all their tactics and all their best and brightest were kept. He couldn't exactly give her free reign of the place. "Good, now put your backpack in your room, it is pointless to keep lugging it around, then I'll take you up to see Valor and Beatrice."

The smile from earlier swiftly found its way back to Quinn's lips as she practically bounced down the hall to the room, throwing open the door, she found it to be rather threadbare, a simple black quilted bed in the centre with a slit of a window looking out over the courtyard, and a wooden clothes cupboard beside it, the walls still hung with those thick green drapes. There was little of the opulence she had seen in her visit to the Demacian palace, it seems Noxian's believed in efficiency and, sitting down on the bed she realised, comfort over gilt. It was surprisingly refreshing to see the ruler not revelling in his wealth, it gave it an understated dignity, one that didn't need banners and pages to declare its presence. Quinn found herself thinking that this was all round a rather nice place for her to stay a while, a surprising show of kindness from the lord Tyrant, seeing as any time he wanted he could choose to instead have her sent to the dungeons.

After depositing her belongings, and the thick greatcoat in the room, Quinn rejoined Swain, who she found had taken the time to remove his thick steel pauldrons and his cape along with them, his shoulders relaxing thoroughly with the now relieved tension of no longer having to carry the armour atop them. He gave her a brief nod before setting off once more. Finally, she would be reunited with Valor.


	8. Chapter 8

_**EIGHT**_

_**THE REUNION**_

Quinn was giddy with excitement as she followed the tyrant through the halls of his private quarters, heading up towards the roof garden, after ascending a staircase at the same painfully slow gate as last time, she found herself before a glass door, Swain slowly let it swing open, standing aside to admit her entrance. Stepping out into the garden she felt her breath leave her behind, it was like stepping into another world. Gone was the dour and menacing buildings of Noxus, or even the simple dignity of Swain's quarters, it was like she had just stepped back into the forest she had so recently left behind. All around here was naught but green, tall trees blocking the sun from sight, plush grass cushioning her feet as she stepped out, twirling around slowly to take it all in, breathing deep to take in the scent, somehow this little glade seemed free of the cities industrial smog, it smelt like a forest should, fresh, free, like morning dew hanging off a branch, like... Well to Quinn, all forests smelt like home. "You... You weren't kidding when you said it would be big enough to accommodate them both..." She looked back at Swain, the Tyrant watching with a bemused raised eyebrow.

"I never, 'kid', child. Come, their nest is this way, I expect they're both fawning over one another as usual." Swain stepped off into the forest, disappearing behind a tree, Quinn made haste to follow.

"Valor!" Swain called, "someone is here to see you!" A shadow broke off from one of the tree's in the distance flying towards them with all the haste Quinn had, had on her way up here. Without slowing down in the slightest, Valor slammed headlong into his friend, wings wrapping around her head as her screeched with glee, sending them both tumbling into the dirt.

"Agh! Valoooor." Quinn had put on her usual scolding tone as she gazed down at the eagle eagerly nuzzling his scalp into her cheek, in moments her face had softened and she in turn wrapped her arms around the person she loved the most in the world, stroking a hand slowly down his spine. "I... I missed you to Valor." Quinn felt tears of relief rolling down her face as she petted her beloved friend, he in turn was frantic to stay close to her, wings not letting loose their grip around her neck in the slightest. As the two lay there on the grass embracing one another and letting out all the stress that had been pent up from them being apart so long, the Tyrant watched, unable to keep a smile from his lips as a bit of their joy infected him. Beatrice joined him before too long, fluttering down from her and Valor's nest to alight herself on Swain's shoulder. The tyrant pulled his eyes from the gleeful pair to look to his own companion as she gave him a brief nuzzle in greeting, his hand coming up to tickle under her chin.

"Hello to you to, Beatrice. They certainly seem pleased to see one another." Swain twitched his head to the pair of Demacian's currently lying in his garden, who'd have thought there'd be a day when that'd happen. Beatrice trilled in agreement, fluffing out her feathers as she watched the pair peacefully, glad to see her mate so happy once more. "And now that the girl has arrived, we can say for certain that Valor will be staying with you for a good time longer." As always, Swain's voice had begun to soften as he talked to Beatrice, the odd little avian being the being he cared for more than any other in this world and beyond. She in turn perked up at his words, letting out a pleased cheep. "Yes yes, I am sure you will be glad to have company other than me." Beatrice turned her head to the side, letting out a concerned squawk as she bounced along the roost closer to her owner. "No, of course I'm not jealous." She lowered her head, letting out another squawk. "Yes I am sure! Beatrice, I told you last night, I'm glad that you've found yourself a mate. Even if he is a Demacian. You deserved a companion like that, and I look forward to when your chicks are born just as you are." Beatrice flared her wings, the soft black feathers momentarily wrapping their way around the Tyrants covered neck. Letting out a loving chirp. He smiled and stroked a knuckle across her brow.

"I love you to Beatrice."

Meanwhile, the pair of Demacian's had finally managed to unwind the themselves from one another, Valor sitting contentedly in the lap of Quinn, as she stroked down his spine, Swain's words to Beatrice brought her head up, and she couldn't help but grin. "So the Tyrant isn't as heartless as the legends say after all." Swain's head snapped to her, letting out a low disgruntled growl at her having heard the sentiment.

"Quiet, Quinn." That was the first time he had called her by name since... Well since they had met, and even though he sounded grumpy, it was not nearly the threatening tone he'd taken when he first found her in the woods with his bird. It seemed he might finally be starting to warm up to her. "But... While I have your attention, dinner is served in the feast hall at seven every night. When you come, you are not to make much in the way of conversation with anyone of import, lest you reveal yourself. You will stay by my side, and if anyone asks why a member of my guard is joining us at the head table. You will say that I am shaping you as a new tactician, and that you are under my personal tutelage. None will be able to argue with that." As always, there was not even the hint of these words being a question, or even a statement, they were a command. No one was more used to command than the great tactician, and rarely did anyone ever argue with him over them, and like so many others, and despite her best efforts, Quinn could not find a reason to contest them. Only nodding in agreement and supplication.

"Yes sir."

"Good, you are welcome to stay in the garden as long as you wish, but do not. I repeat, do not. Enter my study or any other room in my quarters without my permission in advance. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, there is a bathroom in the opposite hall to your bedchamber, you should make use of it as soon as you can tear yourself away from Valor. You smell like a latrine." Quinn blushed, smelling herself for the first time, she did not exactly have much time to bathe when deep under enemy lines, and had to admit it had been rather along time since she had found the time to do so. She did smell a bit well... Unclean, her hair matted with dirt and her covered in dried sweat.

"I'll uh... I'll get onto that now." She murmured in embarassment, putting Valor off her lap and into the grass as she stood back up, heading back the way she had come, Swain nodded, turning away and walking towards the balcony edge of the garden with the two birds in tow.

"Good girl."

Quinn swiftly made her way through the halls of Swain's quarters towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and bolting it. Though she highly doubted the Tyrant would intrude, she turned to find a large porcelain bath with a shower built in behind it, turning the brass handles she received something every girl missed when out in the wilderness.

Hot water.

After filling the bath she cast off her disguise, climbing in and sinking all the way under the water apart from her face. Letting the steaming bath relax her tortured and tired muscles, letting out a long contented sigh. This was the most at peace she had felt since leaving for this mission, alone in the hot water, knowing there were no threats on the immediate horizon, only a hot meal in the evening and Valor upstairs. She was finally free from the stress of infiltrating Noxus, seeing as she was now the personal guest of the lord himself, she had nary a thing to fear. The only question was...

What was she going to say when she finally returned to Demacia?

She really didn't know what she would say. Swain's rivalry with Prince Jarvan the fourth was famous, and if he got wind that one of his elite was willingly his guest... Well there was barely a doubt in her mind that she would be tried for treason. The relaxation the hot bath had brought on began to melt away as she fretted over her return. She would have to lie but... Well when she did return, would it be with Valor? He had a family here, a lover and a whole host of chicks on the way. She couldn't ask him to leave all of that behind, but she in turn couldn't leave him behind. She started to wonder if she would ever be able to return home with him, but in the end, finding no solution in easy reach. She pushed the thoughts from her mind, deciding to ask Swain if he had any suggestions when she found the time.

Eventually, after washing her hair for the first time in weeks and exulting in how smooth it was to the touch once more, Quinn dressed and left the bathroom, nearly slamming into the portly, elderly woman who stood before her. Her silver hair in a tight bun and her body clothed in a modest, black dress.

"H-hello?"

"Yes. Hello. You are the lord general's guest, correct?"

"Uh... yes?" Quinn was rather confused, who was this woman, why was she here, had Swain allowed her into his quarters?

"Right. Wonderful, I have taken the liberty of stocking your wardrobe with fresh clothing, I would suggest you go and change into some post haste, those look well past due for a wash."

Now she knew who this woman was, and she almost laughed from the thought finally hitting her, she didn't know why but it had never occurred to her that Swain might have one, maybe she had just assumed Noxian's differed from Demacian's in that area as well. She was the maid. "Oh! Thank you, I'll uh, go do that now." Swiftly she made her way past the woman and into her own room once more, finding her closet to be well stocked with the uniform of Swain's guard, along with, oddly enough, a long blue dress, seemingly fit for nowhere else other than a formal party. She supposed she would need something like that to wear if she were to accompany Swain to all feasts and events, finally, on the final hangar of the wardrobe was a dark green, fluffy nightgown that for a moment she considered changing into now, but in the end decided against it, she still had to attend dinner. After changing into another set of uniform, putting their trademark coat on once more, but neglecting to pull the hood up; she stepped out to find the maid once more waiting outside.

"I'll take your dirty clothes now. They will be delivered to your room on the morrow." The maid intoned in the same commanding tone of the tyrant himself, seems similar personalities worked well together. Though Quinn founding herself wondering what an argument between the two would look like, it would be entertaining at the least. She stepped back in her room and picked up the bundle of clothes, handing them over to the maid who nodded and stepped off down the hall once more.

"Uh.. Thank you!" The only response she received was the sound of the door to the quarters closing behind the maid. "Not the friendliest of people, is she...?" Quinn muttered to herself, setting off down the hall once more towards the gardens. Only to find Swain descending the stairs, the two birds roosting peacefully on either side of his head.

... "You look like a lobster , Quinn. Did you use the entire cities supply of hot water or was your princes dragon friend in there with you?" Quinn flushed, finding the Tyrant's sense of humour a little bit mean.

"Hey I haven't gotten to have a bath in weeks, can you blame me for wanting to relax a little."

"Hmn, I suppose not. Come, it is time for dinner." Swain stepped past her, heading towards the door the maid had so recently gone through, and as Quinn followed after him. Valor hopping from Swain's shoulder to her own, she found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, living here in the enemy capital for a while wouldn't be so bad after all.


	9. Chapter 9

_**NINE**_

_**DINNER AND A ROOM**_

Quinn followed Swain down into the feast hall, and immediately upon arriving, she understood why it was called as such. Well over a hundred diners occupied the huge, high vaulted room, spread out over dozens of long wooden benches. Quinn looked around, seeing all sorts catered to here. From the lowly privates at the far back of the hall, joking and hollering to one another loudly. To the table reserved for the leaders and champions of the city. Of course not a single distinguishable word could be heard, everyone in the hall talking becoming a thick wall of white noise, you could only hear people who were right beside you. Darius, Swain's right hand man stuck out like a sore thumb for still being dressed in full battle regalia near the head of the table, though he was hardly the only great warrior there. Katarina, still dressed in her ludicrously tight fitting and revealing all leather outfit; and her family assassin, Talon sat further down, locked in conversation, Singed only a few seats past them, eagerly devouring his food through a small parting over his mouth in the bandages he wore over his body, underneath a simple tunic. Darius looked up as Swain entered and gave him a respectful nod, Swain returning the gesture as he limped on over, Quinn in tow.

Swain lowered himself down at the head of the table and a servant seemed to simply materialize with that eerie speed all good waiters possessed at his side, placing a plate of mutton and vegetables down afore him and a stein of mead beside. Quinn watched, still on her feet as she was unsure as where on the table she belonged, until Swain looked up at her from his seat, nodding to the spot just across from Darius. Hastily she joined him, hoping few would take note, though a server certainly did as in moments she had recieved the same meal as the Tyrant, which, to tell the truth, looked absolutely delicious to her famished stomach. To her companion it must have seemed delicious as well, as Valor hopped down off her shoulder, pecking at the meat without even pausing to ask her permission.

"Agh-! Valoooor..." She glowered at him, as did the other woman in his life from her roost on Swain's shoulder. He wilted under the women's rage and sulked his way back onto her shoulder, though in his actions, he'd drawn at least some attention as Darius raised an eyebrow over his fork, looking to Swain.

"Even your guard have birds now, sir?"

Swain was in the midst of taking a draught from his mead, having lowered the sash over his face for the first time since Quinn had met the General, he raised a finger to stall the question, half draining his stein in one go before lowering it. Hands clasping together.

"Quinzel, is a special case. She showed exceptional promise, and as such, she is my new student. Beatrice, would you show her impatient featherbrain where it is your meals are being prepared to put his mind at rest?" He finished the sentence, casting his eyes to the raven sitting relaxedly on the roost of his shoulder, she looked to him before bouncing off her roost, flying off through the halls with Valor in tow. Meanwhile, Darius turned back towards Quinn, who was internally wondering if the tactician was truly so great if his name change was pretty much the same as her real name.

"A student? Now that's something new, well it is an honour to meet you, Quinzel." Darius extended a hand across the table to her, a smile finding itself in unfamiliar territory across his lips. Quinn hesitated for barely an instant before returning the gesture, immediately regretting it as he practically maimed her hand.

"The honours all mine, I've heard a lot about you, Sir." She squeaked out, wincing as he let her hand go. "Thank you for saving me in the bar earlier by the way, your brother was well... Well no offence sir, your brother turned into a raving lunatic." She felt Swain wince internally at her admitting to being the girl from the bar, but Darius only laughed.

"What do you mean turned into!? That one has always lacked any sort of control, as much as I'd like to be able to say a kind word for my brother, ever since he gained a celebrity status as an executioner, he's thought the world belongs to him." Swain looked up at the pair as the topic of conversation leaned towards the fellow who'd been foolish enough to not listen to his commands.

"Speaking of Draven, what did you say when he woke up?"

"I told him if I hadn't knocked him out then and there, it'd be his head on the executioners block, and that he should learn to shut his stupid ungrateful mouth when his elder brother tells him to, sir."

"... Yes, that is what I would say as well, though not in such words."

"Of course not sir."

The pair fell into casual conversation, but Quinn's attention was waning, every now and then she would catch Katarina looking to her, and she knew for certain at least one person here knew the truth of her identity, she wondered idly what Katarina wanted now as she idly picked at her food, eventually ignoring the other woman 's incessant stares as she fell into her own mind, getting into the monotonous pattern of eating, if Katarina wanted to talk to her then she could just come over and talk.

Which, soon enough she did. Katarina unabashedly pushed the man at Quinn's side further down the bench, ignoring his protest as she sat down beside Quinn. Speaking in a hushed whisper only loud enough for Quinn to hear.

"So the Demacian is joining us at the command table? You certainly lead an interesting life Quinn. But when are you going back to Demacia, I don't want to have to wait forever for Garen to get that letter." Quinn almost laughed, the feared Noxian warrior was wanting her to hurry up in delivering her love letter.

"I don't know when I'll be going home, Katarina. I don't really have any plans of tearing Valor away from Beatrice and there's no way I can leave without him. You're both league champions, won't you see him there?"

Katarina sighed and knuckled her brow. "Yes, I will see him there at some point, but there's no knowing when we'll be both called to the league at the same time, and we don't exactly have much in the way of leisure hours there."

"Okay, you have a point, look, I'll try and get it to him as soon as I get to Demacia, okay?"

"But whe-" Quinn hastily cut her off, as funny as she found it that Katarina, a woman she'd been taught to fear and despise, was pestering her as to when she'd give her words of love to the vanguard of Demacia himself, she really wasn't in the mood for it.

"I'll get back, when I get back, Katarina, I'm sorry, but I'm really tired, so can I please just eat? Okay?"

Katarina let out a quiet humph, sitting there for a moment before muttering, "Okay." Without another word, she stood up, stroppily moving back to Talon and her meal. Finally leaving Quinn alone to her thoughts and her now only lukewarm meal.

Meanwhile, after flitting their way past many a startled servant and soldier, the two lovebirds had found their way to the huge kitchens, where dozens of chef's worked round the clock to keep the many occupants of the fort happy as a Noxian ever was, but more importantly, well fed. Like all big restaurant kitchens it had that rather indistinguishable smell that though delicious and mouth watering, could only really be described as sort of like chicken. There were likely a thousand crisis happening every moment in this kitchen, the chefs certainly made it sound like it, kitchens were like military bases, things only got done if everyone was in everyone else's way, and there was always a dozen people yelling at a dozen other people, with one guy sitting back and just letting it all happen, but somehow, despite rarely needing to say much, this was the guy in charge. If he weren't there, it'd all fall apart. That was who Beatrice and Valor were going to see. Beatrice led the way past the main doors to a much smaller window to the outside, bobbing her head like a swan going for fish so as to fit through, gracefully fluttering to the floor. Her larger mate flopped to the floor a few moments later, his much wider wingspan a tad unsuited for fitting through such tight spaces. Beatrice nuzzled her mate worriedly as she masked with the ease of a practised liar her amusement. As Valor pulled himself to his feet and shook off his wings, the head cook noticed the pair, jolly red cheeks and rotund belly he was the very image of the stereotypical head chef, he even had a wooden ladle clasped in the same way most would a mace in one hand.

"Aaaah, miss Beatrice. So good to see you, I was beginning to worry you'd be missing dinner, and what's this? You brought a friend, or a lover hmmmmnnn?" The large man gave the birds at his feet a sly smile and Valor a comradely wink. "You're a lucky man mr. Eagle." Valor preened himself pridefully as Beatrice fluttered up onto the chef's shoulder, a fat pointer finger coming to tickle under her chin. "Come, let us see what I've got for you!" The chef doddered along through his own kingdom of the kitchens, Valor hastily hopping along the ground to keep up as Beatrice happily rode shotgun. Soon enough, the cook had found the pair a large haunch of boar to share, reverentially laying it down on a wide plate and bringing it outside for the pair, resting it down on a stone balcony railing. "Enjoy."

And so the pair of birds had a lovely romantic dinner by moonlight, well, as romantic as two predators snapping meat from the leg of a hog can be. Eventually they found their way back to the rooftop garden, settling into their nest together as down below, back in the feast-hall, Quinn and Swain were both mopping up the lasts of their meals. Swain was the first to stand, impelling Quinn to follow with only a glance.

"Goodnight, Darius."

"Ah, yes, good night sir. I'll see you on the morrow in the meeting room?"

"Of course, we have much to do." Confirmed Swain, sweeping away from the table and leaving Darius to his devices, Quinn in tow.

"What exactly?"

"Hmn? What was that, Quinzel?" Swain put a certain tilt on the words, wordlessly reminding her that she was a spy in his lands he'd allowed to stay by his own good-graces, and in fact was only still alive thanks to him deciding for it to be so. She probably shouldn't pry into state secrets, even if she hadn't meant it as such. She had honestly simply been trying to make conversation.

"Nothing... Nothing..."

"As I thought, come, it is about time we both retired for the night."

Without another word to her, Swain led their way up to his quarters, giving her only a nod as Quinn moved off towards her own bedroom, casting her clothing in a heap on the floor, the young scout fell upon the bed with a quiet groan, tired both mentally and physically. It took hr quite a time to collect herself enough to crawl under the covers, after that it took not time at all for her to sink into a deep slumber.

Her dreams were troubled to say the least, going from memories of her brother, to visions of Valor lying on the floor of a forest, dead, to herself locked away in a jail cell, only a sliver of light falling upon her emaciated form. Not a Noxian jail cell, but a Demacian one, with Prince Jarvan himself as her warden, there was only a single word spoken in the dream. One word that snapped Quinn back to wakefulness once more, sitting up in bed with beads of sweat rolling down her body.

"Traitor."

She wasn't a traitor? Was she? She was sticking by her closest friend, if she was a traitor, she would have torn him from the one he loved. She wasn't giving away secrets to Swain, she was just being there for her friend, like any good friend would. No, she wasn't a traitor, she was sure of that. She was upholding the values of Demacia by sticking by Valor when he needed her most. A good Demacian showed loyalty to family, and if anyone was family to her, it was Valor. So no, she wasn't a traitor. That was something she could promise herself.

Quinn's internal conflict and ensuing self-affirmation was rather rudely cut off by a harsh knocking on the door.

"Quinn, get out here." Came her hosts voice, and hastily she dragged herself from bed, dressing on her way to the door. Throwing it open, only to find Swain standing before her in his full battle armour, looking deadly as ever, though she thought she saw a trace of nervousness in his eyes, the two birds roosting nervously on his shoulder, their feelings much more obvious.

"There is someone here to see us."

He turned around, and nodded her towards a man in the doorway. Staring impassively at the group with the assurance of someone who knew no one in the room could do a damn thing to go against him or even think of hurting him.

A man in the robes of a summoner.

"Miss Quinn, you and Mister Swain are both needed on the fields of justice."


	10. Chapter 10

_**TEN**_

_**POLAR OPPOSITE PAIRINGS**_

Quinn's blood went cold. The league. She had entirely forgotten the league, what if after the match they sent her back to Demacia, what if she couldn't get back here... Worst of all, what if she and Swain were to be on opposing sides of the match, Valor and Beatrice would have no choice to hurt one another. The league didn't know they were mates, one was Noxian, the other was Demacian. It went without saying that they'd be on opposing sides. Swain however, only had one question on his mind as he lowered his helm over his features.

"How did you know Quinn was here?" He asked, his eyes burning over the sash covering his face. The summoner, face half hidden in the hood of his fanciful, rune covered robe however did not seem in the faintest bit intimidated, staring right back at the lord of Noxus, his lip twitching up with the faintest hint of contemptuous disdain.

"The institute of war knows where all its champions are, Jericho. We must, for us to be able to call on you whenever the need arises. You know that." It took a moment for Quinn to notice, but the summoner hadn't called Swain by the name she knew him by, Jericho? So that was his first name... She had only ever heard him called Swain, and it had honestly never occurred to her that he might have another name, ridiculous as it was now that she thought about it. Jericho Swain growled under his breath as he put his cane down on a hall table, picking up his staff from its stand on the wall.

"Only my closest companions my call me by that name, Summoner."

The summoners smile only widened, a hint of teeth showing in a mocking grin. "Oh I do apologise, _Lord Swain, _I'll be sure to keep that in mind from now on. But don't you think we have more important things to be tending to than your preferred name? The institute is calling." He waved his hand as if to indicate a door, the door itself appeared as he did so, a swirling magenta portal tearing its way into being. Swain deigned not to give the rude mage more fuel and only nodded, stepping through the portal and fading into its magical interior, the Summoner looked to Quinn, the same snarky smile across his lips.

"Will you be joining us, Miss Harlington?" So he called Swain by his first name, and her by her last. This summoner really was just trying to rub them the wrong way, she wondered to herself why it was the institute saw it fit to send him to call them to it, instead of someone with manners. She simply glared at him as she stepped through the portal, the summoner stepping through a few moments later. Closing the portal with a literal snap of his fingers. The rush of wind filling the space ruffling Quinn's hair as she looked around the hall they had arrived in.

Like all of the institute, it was constructed from thick stone blocks, each carved with a rune, the long passage lit by braziers hanging from the ceiling, burning with a purple flame. Swain had been here dozens of times before and already he was on his way, his staff clicking against the stone with every step. Quinn however, was entirely lost, this was the side they summoned Noxian champions in, not Demacian ones. She was about to ask the summoner where it was she should be going when his mocking tone resounded from behind her, bouncing off the echoing walls. Looking all for the world like ancient, otherworldly catacombs, the institute was a rather foreboding place to be, especially with the strange noises that came from the sections they weren't allowed to enter, like the wild laughter that would resound from the room fiddlesticks was sealed within when he was not out on the fields of justice. It was by no definition of the word, homely.

"Great news miss Harlington! I'm your summoner for today." He laid a hand on her shoulder, a comradely gesture from anyone else, an irritating one from this particularly poor example of humanity, she got the sense that he was loving every moment of it. Thankfully, Valor's patience was not as strong as Quinn's and he nonchalantly moved his foot ever so slightly so as to rest atop the summoners hand, talons digging into the back of it. The Summoner yelped and pulled his hand back quickly, which was really rather a poor decision, it forced the talons deeper into the skin as he pulled away, opening 3 small wounds on his hand. "Stupid bird! Watch where you put your feet." He shoved past Quinn. Waving a hand for her to follow, "Or I won't watch where I put mine." Snarled the summoner over his shoulder. Quinn couldn't help but grin up at Valor as he fluffed himself up happily at having wiped that stupid smile off the man's face.

"Good job, Valor." He looked down to her, a cheeky twinkle in his eyes as he let out a gleeful caaw. Though, as she set off to follow her summoner for the day, Quinn thought on what that little mean gesture could mean for them, seeing as they had to deal with this petty man for a good while more. It meant one thing certainly.

This wasn't going to be a good day.

The pair of Scout and Eagle followed the Summoner for a while longer, eventually reaching the room where Summoners sent their champions to the Fields of Justice, and joined their minds with them before hand. twenty Pentagrams filled the rooms floor, in four rows. The ones on the outside for the summoners, the ones on the inside for the champions. Swain was currently standing before a young female summoner a good head and shoulders shorter than him, she had pretty, if roughly cut and poorly kempt dusty blonde hair, and had the look about her of a frightened mouse. Quinn rather got the sense that in that pairing, it would be Swain in the driver's seat. Her own summoner pulled her from the distraction, quite literally as he grabbed a hold of her wrist, rather roughly yanking her into her own pentagram as he stepped into his own, he turned to face her.

"Ready?" Before she even had time to nod, he'd place a hand on her brow, and she could feel the magic's of the summoner filling her mind. It felt rather like having someone standing over your shoulder, far too close for comfort. She could feel the Summoners thoughts in her own mind, his feelings, and his rancour for her and hers, particularly the bird who sat atop her shoulder. Staring balefully at the man, who returned the look in kind. "There, it's done. You and Jericho -" She caught Swain's shoulders tensing as he said that, he really was grating on the tyrant's nerves with his use of his given name, "- and you, are the first to arrive. So there will be a bit of a wait. You can go to the fields to wait now, or you can wait. I don't care." The summoner turned on his heel, not being needed in the room until it was time to go, as he made his way out, Quinn caught sight of him pulling a cigarette from somewhere in his robes. Meanwhile, now that he had left the room, Swain saw fit to ask his own, rather more polite Summoner a question. "Madgova, will Quinn and I be on the same team for this battle, or not?" The Tyrant's voice burned with its usual essence of command, which did nothing to help the poor girls nervousness, she seemed to be trying to sink into her robes as she smiled worriedly up at him.

"You're... You're from opposing cities. O-of course you're not on the same side, that's um... That's not a problem is it?" Her voice only helped strengthen Quinn's mental image of her as a mouse, little more than a timid squeaking. Indeed the two birds of prey in the room had both been eyeing her rather like they would a tasty meal until she spoke, at which point, both their eyes filled with sorrow, as they whipped to face one another. Beatrice hopped from her roost on Swain's shoulder to fly to her mate, landing beside him on Quinn's own mantle and allowing him to wrap his wings about her in a loving embrace, the smaller raven crooning sadly as she buried her head into the soft downy feathers of his chest. Swain watched the wordless exchange with pain, knowing what the pair might well have to do to one another today.

They may have to kill each other.

He let out a long sigh, and turned back to face the summoner known as Madgova. "Not for me, no. But it is not I in which my concern lies." Madgova looked from him to the pair of birds on Quinn's shoulder, her eyes slowly widening as it dawned on her why it was the pair seemed so eager to embrace each other, despite their opposing cities. Her hands both came to her mouth as her eyes in turn filled with sadness, she was a very sentimental and romantic woman.

"Your birds, they're... They're in love? Oh my god, I was wondering why Quinn was with you, but it makes sense now. Oh, you're going to have to fight each other, it's so sad... I'll -" The timid little summoner turned away from Swain to face the two tormented avians, "- I'll do my best to make sure you two never have to fight okay? I'll keep Swain away from Quinn as much as I can." Each and every person in the room suddenly felt their respect for the young girl go up in leaps and bounds, the two birds letting out caw's of thank you as Swain merely nodded, turning away from her to step towards Quinn, extending a hand for Beatrice.

"Come along, dear. We should get out there quickly, lest the other Demacian's see you together." Valor gave him a look that said he couldn't give a damn if the other members of his nation knew he was with the raven of their enemies leader, but Beatrice nodded, giving Valor once last loving nuzzle before hopping across to Swain's pauldron, the Tyrant turning on his heel and clicking his way back to the pentagram. "Madgova, if you will."

"Oh, uh-right, right." Madgova waved her hands in a spell, the pentagram below Swain slowly getting brighter and covering the tyrant within its glow, his silhouette slowly fading away until the Tyrant no longer stood within the room. Quinn stepped onto her own dais and looked to Madgova, seeing as her own, rather poor example of a summoner still had yet to return to the room.

"Hey Madgova, could you send me to the fields as well? My summoner's out smoking, and to be frank, I don't have to deal with him anymore than I have to." She gave the girl what she hoped was a smile of comradely suffering, knowing that Madgova had to deal with him most every day ,seeing as they worked at the institute together.

"Sure! I can do that Quinn. Yeah... No one really likes Stefan, he's a jerk... You know after a match on the fields, all he talks about is how many kills his champion got, and how much a better summoner he is than anyone who didn't get as many... Which usually means it's me." She looked down at the ground bashfully as she walked to occupy Stefan's abandoned control pentagram, Quinn frowned at the other girls sadness, laying a hand on her shoulder and smiling reassuringly, her other hand coming up to brush a bang from Mangrove's eyes

"Hey, I bet you're a great summoner, Madgova. You keep practising at it and you'll far outstrip him in no time at all, so just don't let him get to you, okay?" Madgova blushed at her compliments, but smiled all the same.

"Thanks Quinn... I'll do my best."

"Atta girl, now, shall we?" Madgova nodded and waved her hands in the same way she had for Swain, Quinn feeling her body slowly being pulled from reality. She'd never liked teleportation much, mostly for what came in the middle. On her way to the fields of Justice, Quinn found herself falling through what seemed to be an endless vortex of pure magic, chaotic swirls catching her and throwing her this way and that, Valor holding onto her painfully tight. Thankfully, the trip was brief, and she arrived at the platform at the north east end of the Fields, though for now, her only companions were Valor, as ever, and the diminutive yordle merchant just beside the rune covered ring. Who looked at her under a concerned furrowed brow.

"You all righ', missy? Yer lookin' a tad queezy."

"I, uh... Y-yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine." Quinn reassured him, but the yordle shook his head, reaching into his pack and pulling out a canteen.

"'Ere, 'ave a drink before the other champ's arrive, yeh look like you could use it." Quinn accepted the canteen gratefully and had a long draught from it, giving the merchant a smile as she handed the flask back. "Good luck out dere, young miss."

"Thanks." She looked to Valor, the bird's eyes still filled with worry. "I think we'll need it..."


	11. Chapter 11

_**ELEVEN**_

_**LOVE STRUCK**_

Quinn and Valor needn't have waited long for the other champions, as not long after the elderly merchant had wished the young scout luck did her fellow Demacian's begin to appear. The first was a sight that couldn't help but bring a smile to her lips, Sona, the famed mute mistress of the musical arts. She had attended only one of the minstrel's performances since she had taken up residence in the city of Demacia itself. But that one performance alone had been enough to blow her away. She could well believe that in the interview the Journal of Justice had held with Swain, he had spoken only the truth when he said, "Her music tears at the soul, her silence at the heart." The other woman nodded gracefully to her, her feet floating a few inches from the ground as always when she entered the league. Quinn nodded back, grinning despite herself. In her brief time in the league, she'd learned a lot of the various roles a champion could fill, and which of the three paths on the field they were best suited for. She still had much to learn according to the Summoner who'd taken the time to teach her a little before her first match, but she did know that Sona would be sharing the southern path with her today. She couldn't help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of getting to work together with such an acclaimed celebrity, even if it were only on the fields of battle. Sona however did not seem nearly as excited, her hands idly checking the tuning of her floating instrument as her eyes watched the other runes on the raised dais for the next champion to arrive. Soon enough a much smaller silhouette than either of the women began to fade into view, that could only be one person. Poppy, the diminutive, but iron willed ambassador hailing from Bandle city, the abode of the Yordle's. The blue skinned woman nodded up at the pair of them as she arrived, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's presence, and unbeknownst to Quinn; her attire.

"Hello, are the three of you prepared?" She intoned in her usual rather cold tones, Quinn always thought the girl was a tad too controlled by her beliefs, and when she had met her in the castle of Demacia, she found it very hard to hold a conversation with her. She had never once even looked like she was going to smile, let alone know what happiness was like. Quinn sometimes wondered what it was that had brought her to be that serious, but those ponderings were for another time, and she gave Poppy a terse nod, Sona copying the gesture as Valor screeched his assent, only Quinn knowing him well enough to detect the doubt in his call.

"Good. Let us show the Noxian's a bit of my kind of diplomacy." She rumbled as she moved from the dais at a swift trot, taking the northern path of the three, there was no doubt in Quinn's mind as to what the Yordle woman meant, the giant hammer left little room for debate.

Of course, that was probably the whole idea. The armour, shield and of course, war hammer almost the size of its wielders entire body was an outfit that made her distinctly difficult to argue with. Quinn was simply glad that the negotiator was on their side, if she went to Noxus, chances are half the independent towns in Valoran would have bowed to them by the end of the week.

Sona tapped Quinn on the shoulder, making sure it was not the one Valor sat upon to avoid the mistake the Summoner had made. Quinn turned and the musician nodded to the south, asking if she was ready to get moving. Quinn was about to respond when the summoner finally made his return

"_Hello again. Get moving. I don't why you're hanging around on the dais._"

_"I was waiting to see who the other champions were."_

"_Poppy, Sona, Jarvan the fourth and Xin Zhao, happy?_" That made Quinn wince internally, the prince was going to be here? What if he wanted her to report on how her mission was faring, what if he wanted her to come back to Demacia. What would she say? Though that matter would have to wait for now, as she felt her Summoner impelling her forwards with his now commonplace rudeness.

_"And for you to get back. You're supposed to be my eyes in the sky here."_

"_No. I'm meant to control you. So... Good girl for waiting, but get a hustle on, Sona and her Summoner are waiting._"

Quinn growled to herself, but finally nodded to Sona, who was watching with a concerned frown; she smiled a little at Quinn's confirmation and set off down the path, a faint ripple of air heralding her levitated form. Quinn followed shortly after, easily closing the distance with her. Her eyes narrowed as they reached the second monolithic magical statue, looking for any signs of the champion's they'd be facing. Her attention was swiftly grabbed not by any enemy, but once more the grating voice in her head.

"_Okay, I know you're new at this. So, don't try and act on your own, you don't know what you're doing and you'll just get yourself killed. Just listen to me. All right? All right._"

"_I *am* an elite soldier you know._" She snapped back at Stefan, frankly tired of his condescending nature nearly as much as she had been of Draven's self aggrandizing, violently narcissistic act in the tavern. At least Draven hadn't been inside her head, though she shuddered to think what that would be like. Maybe having Stefan was better after all.

"_But are you an elite champion? No? Didn't think so, so shut up and do what I say._"

But then again, maybe not.

Quinn found herself imagining how the weasel-y little summoner would fare if it was him down here, and couldn't help but grin at the image of him becoming a pincushion in seconds. However it seemed time for reflection was well past due, as Valor leaped from her shoulder, flying high into the air before diving down towards the bushes that fringed the bend of the path. A horrifically familiar man stumbled out, his guard knocked away by the birds strike.

Draven.

"_Quick! Get him while he's vulnerable!_"

And here she was allowed to hurt him all she liked. Maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after-all. Sona had begun to play a melody, the magical nature of her music filling Quinn with strength as she rushed forwards, putting all of her training to use as she lifted her legs up, slamming a heavy, momentum powered drop kick square into Draven's chest and jumping back, utilizing his torso as if it were springboard, as she flew back through the air, Draven stumbled back, trying to escape the assault from both Quinn and the magical, pain filled notes Sona was flinging his way. It seemed he had left the dais early, without bothering to wait for any kind of back up. Just the kind of mistake Quinn expected the egocentric bastard to make, she landed in a roll, turning and rising at its end, raising her crossbow and finally letting loose. Letting loose all the pent up anger she felt towards the man who had threatened her life only the day before, when he had thought her only a royal guard. Of course he still didn't know that was her... Or did he... She looked down at herself and felt her blood turn to ice, even as Draven's own blood fled from his body from the holes she had opened, the poor, overwhelmed Noxian champion falling to the ground with a bolt firmly lodged between his eyes, only for the magic of the summoners to burn away his body in a shimmer of gold, the process of reincarnation already beginning back at the opposite dais to where she had arrived.

She wasn't in her own clothes. She was still dressed in the uniform of Swain's personal guard. Now she knew why Poppy had given her such an odd look.

How in the hell was she going to explain this?

"_Hah hah! It worked, I knew it would. Good thing that dumb bird of yours isn't *entirely useless, hey where are you going? The rank and file are just arriving!_" Quinn paid no heed to her summoners voice, nor did she notice as a row of diminutive purple robed creatures stalked past her, their eyes blazing with hate as they readied themselves for their impending death, and that of their equally small enemies. No, Quinn had run behind the huge stone tower on their side of the bend, stripping off her hooded coat and hurling it into a section of tall grass behind it. Now she stood in only a padded, sleeveless leather jerkin and her tight fitting leggings. Hopefully that'd be enough, hopefully the jacket is what marked out the guard and neither Jarvan nor his servant Xin Zhao would see. That she could get Valor back to his coming children with little trouble.

For a time, the match passed as one would expect if they'd seen many, the champions stuck to their designated lanes, Draven leered evilly at Quinn as they fought, making it clear he knew her secret, but as long as his older brother was Swain's right hand, she doubted that he particularly mattered in the scheme of things. Quinn managed to avoid any of the temporary deaths so common on the fields of justice, largely thanks to Sona's mystical ability to heal her allies with her beautiful sonatas. But as the match wore on, champions begin to branch out into other paths, and those champions who's summoner deigned never to tie them to one in the first place burst from the thickets surrounding the paths to take their foes by surprise. It seemed to Quinn that the Demacian side were most definitely going to win, she had already torn down a tower with the aid of Xin Zhao when he joined her in the south for a time, Draven and his backup, the foul un-dead creature known as Urgot having been dispatched so swiftly thanks to the spearman, neither the champions nor their summoners had, had any time in which to react. Best of all, she had yet to once encounter Swain, even though she knew the Tyrant was here on the field with her. Sadly, not even that peace could last.

Quinn had been spending a time simply cleaving her way through the blue feather clad dwarf like creatures in the top most lane, holding it in Poppies place as the yordle returned to the summoning dais to heal some egregious wounds she had taken from her last engagement with the dreaded master chemist of Noxus, Singed. Who Quinn really hoped she wouldn't have to fight yet. In fact she hoped to put it off for as long as possible, just as she did for a fight with Swain, though for entirely different reasons. Though it seemed her hopes in both regards were about to be dashed, as Stefan, her summoner's voice once more intruded on her thoughts

"_Quickly! Into the river! Jarvan, Xin and Sona just caught a few of em by surprise!_" Quinn immediately moved to obey, having momentarily forgotten that Swain could be one of those currently engaged in the water. But as her boots began to fill with the silt laden liquid, kicking up splashes with every step. She was the heart breaking truth, it was indeed Swain, and it seemed her was on the verge of death. Limping desperately away from Jarvan as Urgot did his best to harry them, willingly sacrificing his own chance of escape so as to allow Swain a better chance. His clawed mechanized hands crushing Sona beneath their weight and sending Xin off his feet with one fired like an arrow, even as a summoners fire engulfed him, his four, spike tipped robotic legs slowly beginning to fail beneath him, the light dying from both his natural but long unseeing eye, and mechanized, glowing green lens.

"_ATTACK!_" Quinn only stood and watched as Jarvan rushed forwards, his telescopic pole-arm yanking him forwards as it caught on a hurled banner, her eyes widened as he swung, not for concern of Swain. But rather Beatrice, the poor little raven seated on Swain's shoulder with not nearly enough time to escape decapitation along with her master. Logically, she knew that Beatrice would revive along with Swain, just as she had likely done dozens of times before, but her thoughts were more on Valor than anything else, the thought of him having to watch his beloved die was frankly, nearly as heartbreaking as it was likely to be for the bird himself.

But Valor wasn't ready to have his heart broken, not today. Breaking every single rule of the summoners code, and every single law of the fields of justice; Valor flew right for the combatants, but instead of hitting Swain or Beatrice as Jarvan likely expected him to, the bird went right for the prince, his claws landing upon the side of his neck, gouging deep gorges of blood in the royalties flesh.

"_WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING!? YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO ATTACK PEOPLE ON YOUR OWN TEAM!_"

It took Quinn a few seconds to collect herself enough to respond, mostly just staring in abject horror as the prince went down, Valor furiously pecking at his forehead and leaving another bloody mark there before taking to the air once more, landing not upon Quinn's shoulder, but rather Swain's, joining Beatrice on her roost and lovingly nuzzling her as he stared pure malice at the prince of his home nation. Swain himself only stood staring, his injuries forgotten as for once, the tactician was caught entirely off guard.

"_Those rules only apply to whoever the summoners synched with, you synched with me... Not Valor._"

Stefan's response rang in her mind, her entire body finally joining her body in freezing over. "_I don't care! He broke the rules! The match *is* over. We're pulling you, Jericho and the prince out and replacing you. Have fun explaining to Jarvan why your stupid bird just attacked him._ "

Valor had attacked the prince himself

Now they were traitors

Her dream had come true.


	12. Chapter 12

_**TWELVE**_

_**ANOTHER'S TREASON**_

Only moments after Stefan spoke did his words become true, Quinn saw the familiar blue rings appearing around herself, Jarvan and Swain, all rapidly closing in. Though when the spells reached climax, they did not deposit the three back at their dais, for their time in the match was over. No, when the vortex of the teleportation cleared, Quinn found herself in Demacia, outside the castle itself.

The pearlescent and golden walls of the famed city of beauty rose all around her, it's seat of power towering over like a giant over an infant, it's towers reaching towards heaven as banners fluttered from them, covering their brick like a women's dress on a windy day, they had seemingly been placed in the beautiful gardens that fronted the castle, as all around well kept hedges and tree's formed a little glade of peace within the cities busy walls, though even in here, they could hear the hustle and bustle of everyday life within the city, merchants arguing, wives gossiping, children shrieking and giggling in the streets, all contributing to the general background noise all cities possessed. There must have been a bakery somewhere nearby, as Quinn swore she could smell fresh apple pie on the wind. Jarvan stood beside her, his wounds healed by the summoners as they returned him home. He seemed furious, but his gaze was not directed at Quinn, he knew Valor was an independent creature at least, and she was not to blame for his actions. But still, she had never seen the princes composure so broken. She followed the line of his gaze, expecting to see Valor hovering there.

He was not. It took her a moment to realise, her eyes frantically twitching about from her shoulder, to the skies to the grass below; but Valor was not here. He hadn't come back to Demacia with them. Why!? The summoners were meant to t return all champions to their home cities. What was going on?

Her frantic thoughts could only come up with one solution. Since Valor had been of Swain's shoulder when they were all teleported home, he must have been taken to Noxus instead of coming back to Demacia with her. As weird as it was to think, she had a feeling that he was far safer with their enemy than she was in their home nation at the moment.

"Come with me, Quinn. You have a lot to explain." Jarvan didn't look at her as he started walking for the gates of the castle, he did however, look to a little brown tuft, rising over a tall wall of hedges. When not out in the fields of justice or on the battlefields of Valoran, Garen did so love gardening, and his hedges and bushes were renowned within Demacia for how well shaped and formed they were, they said any plant he looked after would live a decade. "Garen, come with me, as commander of the Vanguard, you should be there for miss Harlington's mission report." The huge, barrel chested warriors mop of brown hair disappeared for a moment, only for him to step out a parting in the hedges a few metres away, his armour discarded in favour of simple baggy white trousers, and a sleeveless black shirt. His sword exchanged for a pair of hedge clippers almost equal in size, and just like with his sword, he wielded them like an artist. The noble vanguard's face was clouded with befuddlement, and as he moved to join the pair, he hesitantly voiced his confusion.

"Jarvan? Quinn? I thought you were both at the league, the match cannot be over already can it? Why are you back so early?" Jarvan did not answer for a time as he led the way, Quinn walking side by side with Garen.

"That's what we're going to find out." His voice was sharper than his pole-arm had ever been, and Quinn felt it cut into her soul, fear spreading throughout her form. But something nagged at her mind... There was a promise she had made, and she didn't know when she would next see him, or at least get the chance to speak with him, so, she may as well give it to him now, she raised her arm and tapped Garen's shoulder, the warrior standing a good head and shoulders over the woman, he looked down, getting the sense that she wanted him to keep his voice down, otherwise she would have just grabbed his attention verbally.

"Yes, Quinn?" He whispered, not unkindly, though he got the sense that Jarvan was angered with Quinn, he did not yet know why and saw no reason to replicate his friends temperament.

"I, uh... A... Special someone, asked me to deliver this to you while I was out on my mission. I'd read it when you get the chance." She slipped the letter out from under her jerkin and handed it across into his bear paw of a hand, Garen's eyes lighting up when he realised who she must mean. He held the letter as if it were a precious, but indescribably delicate treasure.

As they crossed over through the huge gates into the castle interior, Garen ever so slowly slit open the letter using a small utility knife he'd pulled from his pocket, meanwhile; Quinn pondered on just how different the two cities were, not only their people, but their architecture and essence to. While Noxus was a dour sordid city, with the blocky, gothic buildings casting every street and alley deep int shadow, where blood ran freely in the gutter; Demacia was a shining example of culture and beauty, the buildings well spaced apart and each one a near masterwork of the craft of architecture, the streets wide, clean and paved yellow to look as if they were gold. But in Noxus, every citizen, big or small, rich or poor, mighty or weak, walked the streets with pride and confidence, each man was his own man, with a firm grasp on his own destiny, you would only see that kind of bearing in Demacia from its nobility, all others born to know their place and their role, and raised knowing that they would never rise high enough to ascend from their station in life. All in all... The lands of Demacia may far surpass those of Noxus in their beauty, but the people of Noxus knew a freedom that few of Demacia would ever know. Her musings drew to a close just as a hand wrapped itself around her shoulders and pulled her close. Garen beaming down at her, his eyes alight.

"Thank you for delivering this, Quinn. You don't know how much it means. I won't ask how you ran into her, but I get the sense that, that will come to light soon anyway..." His expression dropped a little as he thought on how furious his childhood friend, the prince looked. "Whatever happens today, Quinn. Know that you have my gratitude."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at how pleased the Vanguard was, it seemed Valor wasn't the first Demacian to be utterly smitten by a Noxian. It was a rare sight indeed to see the usually so dour poster boy of the shining city so happy, she couldn't help but be infected a bit by his joy, despite the horrible situation she now found herself in. She had a curiosity that could top a raven's, and couldn't help but ask as he eased his grip on her, the pair of them falling back into step behind their prince.

"So... What did it say? The letter." She peered up at the giant as they walked, her head tilted slightly to the side. Garen seemed hesitant to speak for a moment but in the end, sighed, his shoulders falling slightly. His voice still very quiet, so that the prince storming ahead of them wouldn't hear.

"I suppose you may as well know, everyone will soon anyway..." He smiled tiredly, though his eyes were still clouded with nervousness. "As you've likely already worked out from getting this letter in the first place, Katarina and I are in love, we have been for some time. Not long ago, I asked her if she'd be willing to come clean on our relationship to the rest of the world. I was tired of hiding it away in the shadows, only able to share kisses and words when we met in a crisis. This letter... Well that was her saying that she was okay with coming clean about it, she had needed some time to think about it. That means..." He couldn't stop a grin spreading across his features, despite the fears and worries about this plan of theirs. "We'll be getting married soon." Quinn felt her jaw slowly slacken as the paragon of Demacia came clean to loving a Noxian just as much as Valor did, this was no little crush, he was actually going to admit to the world their relationship. He was going to come clean, she had to admit, this assuaged her worries for Valor quite a bit. If one of the most famous warriors of Demacia could love a Noxian, then why couldn't a bird to? Things were looking up.

"Oh, Garen, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you."

He nodded, patting her on the shoulder with that smile still wide on his lips. "Thank you, Quinn; we're planning to move in together in Kalamanda, not only so that the town has an equal representation from either city, but so that we can live together away from our cities and their hates, without having to betray them. Quinn nodded in agreement, having to applaud the pair for their courage, to be willing to admit that they loved one another despite the long hatred their cities shared.

"I think I know that feeling... " She sighed, their journey through the castle and thus their conversation finally reaching an end, Jarvan opening the door to his personal offices and turning back to look at the pair, his eyes not having grown a feather softer in the intervening time since either had last met his gaze.

"Come in, let's get to it." With that, he stepped inside, Quinn following and Garen ducking in after, shutting the door behind him. Jarvan moved around his desk and sat down, waving Quinn into the seat across from him, Garen taking up position just left of the door. It was unlikely the small office chairs would have beared his weight anyway. Jarvan rested his elbows upon the table, staring at Quinn over laced fingers. "I'm not going to beat around the bush, Quinn. Valor attacked me, why? Why did he defend Swain when I went to kill him?" She heard an intake of breath behind her, Garen obviously shocked beyond belief to hear of the birds betrayal, and to defend the man Jarvan hated more than any other. Now he understood why his lifelong friend looked so furious. Quinn took a long time to answer, her gaze locked on the desk, fear and worry clouding her mind and stopping her from finding a response that seemed nearly adequate. "Why Quinn?" The Prince demanded yet again, his patience growing short. When she did respond, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"It wasn't Swain he was defending..." That caused Jarvan to raise an eyebrow and he leaned over the desk an inch more.

"What do you mean? Are you trying to say goring me was his way of defending me? Swain was near dead anyway, so that doesn't make any sense. So, Quinn. _Who _was he defending?" Quinn nearly laughed, it was such an obvious answer, why couldn't the Prince come to it himself? Beatrice had been there all along, it's not like she was invisible. Though... In a way she was, Swain was never seen parted from her company, so she was as much a part of his appearance as his cane or clothes.

"He was defending, Beatrice." She murmured, this time a little louder.

"Who?" Jarvan snapped back, his irritation growing. Though it seemed Garen had caught on as there was a momentary snort from behind her, whether it in surprise, disdain, or a suppressed laugh at the oddness of the name Swain had chosen for his pet was unclear. This time, Quinn looked up. Almost angry that Jarvan hadn't caught on yet, how could he be so dense? The answer had been right in the path of his blade, he couldn't have not seen her.

"Swain's raven, her name is Beatrice." Jarvan's brow bristled, his frown only growing in size as he barked back.

"And why would an elite of my army defend the worst man to foul this earth's little pet against me!?"

Quinn rose from her seat fast enough that it fell down behind her, thudding into the carpet. She was sick and tired of the Princes stupidity, his refusal to get it. So she was just going to tell him everything. "Because he loves her!"

That stunned the Prince into silence, his mouth hanging ever so faintly open, his only response was to wave his hand for Quinn to continue, which she did, her voice quieting back down to a more reasonable tone, each word heavy in the air. "They have chicks on the way. I found out in the forest, he'd been disappearing each and every night for a week, so I followed him, what I found was Beatrice and Valor fast asleep together in a nest. Swain found me not long after, and for our friends we agreed not to fight. To keep them and their coming children safe, Swain took the birds and their nest to the garden above his quarters, he gave me a disguise to help me get into the city so I could stay by Valor's side. I've been through all of Noxus, I even slept in Swain's guests room and shared dinner at his table. Because I wanted to stay by my friend! Does that explain everything?" She finished her tale by raising her head to look Jarvan dead in the eye, a loose bang hanging over her eye, her hands planted firmly on either edge of the table. Jarvan however, seemed drained of all his previous fury, the heat of it leaving only icy cold in its wake. He gently pushed back from the table, moving to stand and beginning to slowly pace across the room.

"Yes... Yes it does, thank you Quinn. Now I understand why you didn't report in, you were talking with the enemy, why you didn't appear at the Demacian side of the institute of war, you were on the Noxian side, probably hand in hand with Swain. Now I know why you've abandoned the armour the Demacian smiths made for you, it wouldn't do to wear that in your new station. Yes, now I understand Quinn-" He turned to face her, his face grimmer than ever before, "you're a traitor."

Quinn's mouth opened to respond as her eyes filled with fear at what was sure to be an impending execution, but her voice was drowned out by the man behind her finally giving voice to his own thoughts.

"Is she!? Well then Jarvan, I guess I am to." Growled Garen, stepping forward to stand by Quinn, "If it's treason to just do what your heart tells you is right." That actually seemed to take the prince aback, his jaw slackening slightly as some of the ice melted in his eyes.

"Garen... My friend, what do you mean?"

"Jarvan, I'm engaged to Katarina. I was going to ask you to be my best man." Jarvan's eyes opened so wide they looked like someone was trying to peel the eyelids right off of them, then, slowly they closed as he turned away, walking towards the window behind his desk. His voice was quiet now, but no less deadly than ever.

"You don't know how much it pains me to hear that, Garen... GUARDS!" Moments after the Prince had raised his voice, half a dozen guards appeared outside the door, one opening it and stepping in with his sword ready, another moving at his shoulder.

"Arrest Quinn Harlington and Garen Crownguard for high treason."


	13. Chapter 13

_**THIRTEEN**_

_**FAMILY**_

Immediately, the soldiers burst into action, knowing the danger the two posed, they didn't want to give them time to retaliate before they could get them bound. But the pair were in no real state to make any such attack, simply staring in shock at the man that up until now, both had held in the absolute highest regard. Though now, he seemed little more than a crazed child, striking out at his friends for daring to even talk to someone he doesn't like.

"Jarvan, have you lost your mind!? I'm your oldest friend, Jarvan, and just like this you accuse me of treason!?" Garen shouted at his childhood friend, his voice clouded with outrage and confusion. Jarvan slowly turned back to face the tableau of guard and champion in the front of his office.

"Of course your friendship mattered to me, Garen. That's why it hurts so much to hear you've become just another of Swain's pawns. You don't know how much it pains me to have to have you, both of you; executed." His voice and face were both cold, his eyes dancing with unhinged paranoid fear, the prince was broken on the inside, which made him so, so very dangerous to all his subjects, far more so than Swain would ever be. Quinn let out a gasp, and began to struggle against the guard who was currently binding her hands, lashing out with a boot into the side of his knee and sneding him crashing to the floor, she was ready to attack all the others, to take flight and never stop, to escape; when the paragon of real Demacian values stopped her.

"No, Quinn!" Warned, Garen. "Let them bind you, don't make Jarvan's words the truth. We'll get this sorted out, my family won't stand for it. They'll bring our case to the king. It'll all be okay, Quinn." He did his best to give the scout a comforting look, even as he allowed a guard to bind his thick, muscle laden wrists together, but that look of comfort turned to one of anger and shock, as one guard grabbed Quinn's arms, as if he were about to continue binding them, only to hold her in place as the man she'd hit climbed to his feet, the grip on his sword tight.

"Stupid bitch!" The pommel of his sword lanced out, smashing into Quinn's temple, darkness clouded her vision as the strength fled from her limbs, struggling to maintain consciousness, she looked to Garen, the light going from her eyes even as they pleaded with the great vanguard to protect her, but soon all the light faded and she sagged slowly to the floor, a few droplets of blood tracing a way down her face as consciousness fled the poor girl. Garen fumed, his shoulders heaving with every deep, angered breath, his arms tied tight behind his back. Jarvan merely nodded approvingly, turning back to the window.

"Thank you soldier, she would've escaped if you hadn't done that. Good work. Take them to the dungeon please." Still, the princes voice has the unnatural calmness of the utterly and completely mad. The soldier nodded, not bothering to finish binding the scout's wrists, seeing as she wasn't conscious to try and escape anyway, he instead hoisted her over his right shoulder, her torso hanging down over his back and his arm firmly wrapped around her waist, a crass hand planting itself on her behind, Quinn in no condition to protest. With that, the first of the guards stepped out from the room, the rest swiftly following, the one holding Quinn and Garen himself in the centre of the line.

They had many floors to pass through on the way to the dungeon, walking in line through those huge, high vaulted marble hallways, their steps echoing off the gilded decorations of the high arch's up above, cherubs passing judgement on them from their stone roosts at the peak of every column, and every step of the way any person they passed recoiled in shock, the very thought of seeing not only the wings of Demacia, but it's vanguard to, bound and corralled along like the common prisoner utterly unfeasible, women gasped and men muttered worriedly. One dared ask why it was the pair where in chains, a fellow guard it looked like to Garen's eyes, dressed in the same royal livery, but with three distinct red stripes on either shoulder, the marks of a captain. He had good bearing, and strong features, handsome for a man in his early fifties, his hair shaved down to the scalp in that famed staff sergeant look. He had a long scar running up one cheek and over one eye, if you were a romantic, you'd have called it handsome and dashing, and in a way, it did contribute to his overall look. Garen had known him for years, mostly because he *had*, been Garen's staff sergeant early in his military career. "What's going on? What in the world could these two have done for you to have need to put them in chains?" He demanded, putting a hand on the last guard in lines shoulder. He stopped in tracks and looked to his captain, shaking his head remorsefully.

"I couldn't say sir, I don't like this anymore than you. Prince Jarvan called us into his offices and accused them of treason and well... You don't question the royals sir." At least it seemed not all of them were as mad as Jarvan, nor as cruel as the one who had beat Quinn. The captain shook his head, refusing to believe that Garen could have ever committed treason. He turned away from the guard, walking further up the line to Garen himself, who had been watching the exchange with a grim smile. Knowing that the people of Demacia would see his side.

"Garen, lad. Can you tell me what happened? I don't believe you'd commit treason, it isn't in you."

Garen nodded, falling into step alongside the captain, if it weren't for the fact that Garen's hands were tied behind his back, you'd never know any of this was going on, they looked all for the world two commanders on a saunter with a few guard. "Quinn was charged with treason because, Valor has fallen for Swain's pet bird, the two have chicks on the way. She stuck by him with Swain's blessing as she did not wish to tear him from his love, nor did she want to abandon him in Noxus and leave without him. Me... Well, you could say mine is a tad more damning." The captain processed what he said, but left his comments until he'd heard both tales.

"What do you mean, Garen. You didn't, really commit treason, did you?"

Garen shook his head, "I wouldn't call what I've done that." Garen let out a long sigh, but on his lips was only a sad smile. "Just like Valor, I fell in love." All of the guards were listening in now, and all of them were taken back, the vanguard had a lover? No one had ever heard word of this, most always assumed he had no interest in finding love and was off the market, married to his duties as it were. That had disappointed a lot of women over the years, seeing as the tall and gallant warrior was famously handsome. As many women wanted him as men wanted the mute minstrel, Sona.

"Y-you have a lover Garen? I didn't know... But why would that make you a traitor? There isn't anything wrong with finding love." Garen shook his head, smiling wryly. Couldn't he guess from who Valor's lover was, where this was going?

"The woman I fell for isn't only a Noxian, she's a champion of Noxus... Katarina and I are engaged." He finished, his smirk having changed to a mildly contented smile, though one plagued with worry. The guards eyes were wide, and for a time, no one said a word. Until finally, the captain clapped an arm around the much taller soldiers shoulders. Barking out a laugh.

"Katarina? Argh, I'm jealous Garen! She's one of the prettiest girls in the whole league. You're a very lucky man." It was for once, Garen's turn to look surprised, as his eyebrows went up, the captain only laughed yet again.

"So... You don't see a problem with the two of us being together? Even though she's a Noxian and I'm a Demacian?"

"No of course not! Call me a romantic, but I think what matters far more in life than the city you were born is, is the woman you really, truly love. S'why, I think young Quinn over there did the right thing sticking by her friend when he needed her most."

Garen grinned, relieved that someone agreed with his decision. His choice to come clean with their relation seeming at least a little more right now. "Thank you sir, I promise if I'm not executed in a few days, you'll definitely be invited to the wedding." The captains expression turned more grim at that, reminded of the sordid situation Garen and Quinn found themselves in.

"Don't worry Garen, you'll be fine. I'll tell your family and we'll have this sorted out in no time, the King will get you pardoned once he hears the true story. Same for our little eagle." He nodded to Quinn. "Speaking of. Who hit her?" The man carrying her slowly raised a hand. It went down along with the rest of him, a vicious right hook slamming into his jaw. The captain let him fall to the ground but caught Quinn, cradling her as if she were a child. "Din't your parents teach you better, hitting a girl who's in no state to properly fight back?" He turned on his heel, the entire patrol leaving the man there on the ground, finally reaching their destination, the dungeons. "Don't worry Garen, you two will be out in no time, this is all just a stupid mistake."

The guards led them through a thick steel gate, well hidden from public eye by being at the bottom of a winding staircase. This was the entry way to the dungeons, stepping through it was like stepping into another world, gone were the clean marble of the castle, and the sweet scents hanging in the air. Replaced by thick granite blocks, and sullen, ugly iron barred doors, there was none of the majesty Demacia prided itself on down here, this was the domain of the dead and their watchers. The dungeon's looked as if they belong in the enemy lands of Noxus, such was their utilitarian, sharp and depressing design. There was a certain morbid irony in that. It was built in rectangular cell blocks, though few were actually occupied, the city-state of Demacia was horribly fond of the death sentence, even the pettiest of thieves. Say, a beggar stealing a loaf of bread to feed his children, could expect to lose his head if he was caught. Only a few men and women stared out at the guards and their quarry as they passed, a few hushed murmurs passing between the terrified, subjugated prisoners, wondering what in the world could have brought the wings of Demacia and its mighty Vanguard to jail. But for now at least, they received no answer, the guards stomping past, the conversation lost as they got down to business. They led Garen to a holding cell, 3 of them, the captain included stepping in with him. "All right Garen, we're going to need to get all of you a-"

"Dad, issat you? Where am I?" The young girl in the captains arms had finally awoken and he couldn't help but smile a bit. His hand coming up to move a bang from her eyes.

"Hey there my little eagle, good to see you finally waking up. How're you feeling?" Garen's mouth opened, letting out a quiet gasp of shock. His old staff sergeant was Quinn's father? Well now he understood why he'd been so defensive of her, and why he was so eager to get the pair of them freed.

"M'head hurts..." Quinn was still horribly groggy from having just woken from the harsh concussive blow, and she had not collected herself to remember the situation she had gotten herself into, rolling over in her father's grasp to rest her head into his chest. "I missed you Daddy..." Garen could tell this was only hurting the old man's heart even more, knowing that he'd soon be locking up his own daughter, that his own daughter was slated for execution because Jarvan was a paranoid fool lost in his own grudge to the point of harming those he was meant to protect.

"It'll be all right, Quinny... One of you, go get a pack of medical supplies, we need to clean this head wound up." He nodded to the guards standing outside the cell, and one hurried to obey, knowing better than to disobey a father when his daughter was hurt. Quickly the soldier returned holding a red satchel, he stepped in and handed it across to one of the guards within before stepping back out to stand guard. Quinn's father slowly lowered her to the ground, opening up the satchel and pulling out some antiseptic and bandages, he tore a piece from them and soaked it in the cleansing fluid, cleaning the blood from the wound as his daughter hissed and clenched her eyes closed, his free hand concernedly petted her cheek as he cooed words of comfort. He then rolled out the bandages and tied them thickly around Quinn's forehead. "Quinn, can you stand? I'm sorry dear, but we need to get this done, can't have these lads standing around all day, can we?" the girl nodded weakly, and with her father's help, got back to her feet. He kept one arm around her to support her as he looked back to Garen. "Right lad. Now tell me, what've you got on you? I really don't think we need to go through the pat down, dress down, spread em, process here. I trust you two more than anyone else in this damn city."

Garen had been smiling sadly as he watched the pair, internally starting to think of his own sister, Luxanna. Hoping she'd be all right, and that he'd be able to see her again soon. The spotlight turning back to him took him by surprise a little and it took a moment for him to collect himself. "Uh... Let's see, there's a utility knife in my pocket, my house keys to, my wallet in the right pocket and... A letter Quinn delivered from Katarina for me in my back-pocket."

"Right, well we'll need to take all of that, sorry, but you know the rules. I'll keep a hand on the letter myself Garen, keep it with me all the time and get it back to you the moment you're let free. Soldiers honour." Garen smiled and nodded his thanks as one of the guards stepped forwards and removed the items Garen had told them of from his pockets, putting them in a small wooden tray by the door, it seemed this cell was always used for processing prisoners. "Now, you lads take him to his cell. I'll handle Quinn myself." The soldiers nodded and stepped from the room, all of them falling back into step with Garen once more in the centre as they led him to the cell that, if he was not set free in time, would be his home until he died.

Meanwhile, Quinn's father moved around in front of her, planting both hands on her shoulders and staring at her for a moment, Quinn stared worriedly back. All composure broken now that they were alone, knowing that there was a good chance she was going to die. On the field it was different, sure she could die at any moment, but her life was in her own hands, it was by her own skill and cunning that she ensured she'd live to see the sun rise the next day. She'd died in the league, like any other champion, but there it was just like falling asleep, you woke up not long after. She wouldn't wake up from this. "Dad..." Her father moved forwards finally, his arms wrapping tight around his daughters shoulders and holding her close to his chest, resting his head down atop hers mournfully.

"Shhh, shh, it'll be all right Quinny, I promise. I'll get you pardoned and back to Valor in no time. I swear it on my honour." Quinn smiled weakly up at her father, a few tears brimming in her eyes before she simply rested back into him.

"Thanks Daddy..."

"I love you Quinn." He whispered to her as he held her tight in the comforting embrace, even though she was in jail right now, facing execution. In his big burly arms, she felt the safest she had since leaving for the mission that caused all of this.

"I love you to Daddy."

He smiled down at her, though he was having trouble holding it, a single tear tracing its way down his cheek. "Come on, I'll put you in Garen's cell so you're not all alone, and I promise, I'll be there with both of you whenever I'm not on duty, and whenever I can skive off from duty as well." Quinn's smile brightened a little more, and she let her father take her hand in his, led off to the large cell they'd put Garen in. It was harder than anything she'd done in her life, but eventually she let go of her father's hand and stepped in, letting him close the door.

"You'll be free soon darling." Through the bars, he laid a kiss on her forehead. "I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

**_FOURTEEN_**

**_UNCAGED_**

Time passed like an arrow in the confines of the Demacian castles dungeon, every day passed the same as the one before. Quinn's father would visit for three hours, chatting to the both of them for as long as he could, even opening the cell and stepping in with them to be close to his daughter. Those were the high points of Quinn's day. When he was not with them, she and Garen would wile away the hours as best they could, talking about their lives: Their pasts, their futures, their plans, their hopes and their dreams. But every day the clock ticked closer to their execution date, and with every day it seemed less and less likely that they would be freed, every day when her father came to visit, he seemed a little more worse for wear, the bags under his eyes deeper. But he still kept up his smile, however much it pained him to do so.

When their execution was slated to be only two days from now, Garen's family came to visit. Luxanna was the first to enter, dressed in a beautiful white dress that seemed entirely out of place in the morbid locale of the dungeon, she practically ran to her brother, her face distraught and he wrapped her in his arms, reaching through the bars and holding her tight. Petting her hair even as tears welled up in her eyes. "Brother..."

"Shh, Lux, it'll be okay." He promised, patting her back, but she shook her head as their parents approached. It's funny, Garen most resembled his mother, while their father and Lux shared those same curled golden locks. Garen's father sadly shook his head, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"The King... Won't listen, Garen. He agrees with his son... He agrees that falling for Katarina, and Quinn staying by her friends side is treason... I'm sorry, son. We've done everything we can. But he just won't listen to us." Luxanna began sobbing in full, pressing her head into her brothers chest. Quinn in turn stood in shock at the back of their shared cell, staring at his father, as if she thought he were joking, in another place and another time, she'd have asked where the camera's were hidden. But as she stared at him, the realization that he wasn't kidding slowly filled her mind, she was going to die. Her own nation, her own king was going to kill her for sticking by her friend. She felt her knee's go slack under her, death weighing down. Her eyes stayed on the family and saw Garen was handling it far better. Though she got the sense that he, like her father; was putting on a strong face to help calm his family. Even with death looming over him, Garen was truly a protector of the people.

"G-Garen... I don't want to lose you." Luxanna choked out, holding around her brothers waist with an iron vice like grip, he merely winced, more at her words than her grip, unable to think of any words to comfort her now, and so they stayed for a long time, Garen embracing his family one after the other before a guard finally called that visiting hours were over. Only once his family had filed back up the stairs, the heavy gate shutting behind them; did the giant warrior finally let show how he felt right now. Letting out a scream of frustration he spun and slammed his heavy fist into the stone wall, the skin torn from his knuckles even as rock crumbled over his furious assault, after a few more blows he stopped, shoulders shuddering as a red droplet fell from his fist down to the floor. Quinn slowly got to her feet, walking to him and wordlessly wrapping her arms around him, letting him do the same in turn, now it was her turn to hold in her feelings for his sake, letting Garen sob into her shoulder for a good time, finally able to let his walls down and let it all out on someone who fully understood how he felt right now. Slowly his tears ran out and the vanguard stepped back.

"I... Thank you, Quinn... I needed that." Quinn gave the best smile she could, which was admittedly very weak and the giant returned it in kind.

"It's fine Garen, I know what you're going through. It can't have been easy keeping up a brave face for Lux." She comforted, his brow furrowed as he stalked back to their bunks, sitting down on the bottom one.

"Just... How could Jarvan- We've been friends since we were children, why would he turn on me like this? I know he hates Swain, but that's no reason to turn on your best friend for falling in love. He's not... The Jarvan I thought I knew wouldn't do something like this..."

Quinn sighed, following and sitting down beside him. "No... No it doesn't, it just seems like... Well he's just feuding with Swain, and will kill anyone even remotely related to his rival."

Garen nodded, "my thoughts exactly..." He sighed and rested a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Make the most of tomorrow, it'll be our last." Quinn nodded sombrely, thinking there was no way she could be ready for this. To be killed by the man she had been taught from an early age to adore and respect, just because she stood by her friend when he needed her most. To her Jarvan seemed more a monster than any Noxian she'd met so far, once she climbed off of Garen's bed and up into her own, her dreams were troubled by visions of he himself handling the axe as it flew towards her neck upon the chopping block, its gleaming age flying so fast, all she saw was a silvered blur. Then... All went black. In the dream, in this horrible prophetic dream, I was dead.

But in the realm of the waking, she was woken by a sound so foreign to the dungeon she thought she must still be dreaming.

Whistling.

She sat up in her bunk and hopped down, drowsily stepping to barred cell door to see who it was. To see who could find such joviality in the realm of those awaiting death.

It was her Father. Quinn's father was merrily skipping through the corridors towards her cell, a key jangling from his belt ring. He looked better than he had all week. Something must have changed. Quinn leaned her head through the bars as he got near. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

He grinned at her and tousled her hair. "Quite simple dear," he leaning in, "I'm getting you out." Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"Dad. Wh-what do you mean?" By this point, their talking had woken Garen, and he had moved behind Quinn, equally stunned.

"I mean... Garen here is an incredibly lucky man." he unlocked the door, just as another head appeared behind his, a very familiar red headed one.

"An incredibly, foolish one you mean." Said Katarina, as Garen swept the door open, practically tackling her, Katarina likely would have taunted her fiancé further, but her words were cut off by an exceptionally eager and very deep kiss. Quinn and her father shared a blush as they turned to give the pair a little privacy.

"But... How? How did you get Katarina in, and how are we going to get out?... And how do you know Katarina in the first place!?" She demanded, wondering just how in the world, her father an aged veteran of the Demacian army had managed to get Katarina, Noxus's greatest privateer involved in all of this."

"It's all thanks to the letter."

"The letter?"

"Yes! The one Katarina had deliver for you. I... Well, after Garen's parents and I had tried everything in our power to save the pair of you, and with none of it succeeding in the least, I'd rather given up hope, I spent my time drinking away my sorrows, but on my way home I tripped and dropped the letter, I'd honestly forgotten I still had it on me. But anyway, I gave it a read, sorry Garen; and it said the pair of them would meet up last night in Kalamanda, I got on a horse and raced out there as fast as I could. Just in time to see poor miss Katarina here about to head home lonely. I caught up to her and-... Once she took her knife away from my throat." Katarina gave a mildly embarrassed grin, but the old soldier just winked at her. "I explained what had happened, and that we had no way of saving the pair of you legally. So together we decided we'd well... Do it another way."

"Dad..." Quinn stared at him stunned, her father had raised her to follow orders, to be a good Demacian and a good soldier, he prided himself on his position, on being a soldier known for his honour and his dependability. Yet here he was, throwing it all away to save her. Making himself a fugitive and an enemy of the city he's spent his entire life serving. She was both stunned and touched, that he'd throw away his entire life for her sake. But her father continued as if he hadn't heard her, maybe he was simply avoiding the subject, not yet ready to admit he was now an enemy of the state.

"So I went into the archives this morning, while Katarina copied what you did in her own city, got into Demacia with nary a fight and met me in a tavern this afternoon. I'd found a group of old service tunnels that lead from here out into the city proper. That's how we're getting you out, and once we've done that well..."

Katarina took up the stand, "Breaking in's the hard part, now we just have to break out of Demacia. Once we reach Noxian soil, Jarvan can't touch us without risking another war, or worse, the summoners coming down on his head. So. What do you say 'traitors'? Ready to get the hell outa dodge?" Quinn nodded eagerly , her eyes alight, she wasn't going to die! Garen however had a rather less subdued reaction, picking up Katarina and twirling her about with merry glee.

"I love you so much Kat!" Katarina couldn't help but let out a short laugh, before pulling her way from his grip.

"Now, we need to get moving fast, so no more joking around, there's another shift of guards due in one hour, we need to be in the service tunnels by then, but we don't have to worry about waking the other prisoners at least, I gave them all some sleeping poison, they'll be out of it until tomorrow. Sir, do you have them?" Quinn's father nodded and pulled a pair of mining picks from his back, handing one to Garen.

"The girls will keep watch, c'mon, I'll show you where they covered up the entrance." The two walked off towards a little used part of the tunnel. Katarina waved Quinn on towards the guard station, where her and Garen's belongings were being stored, Quinn couldn't keep a grin off her face as she turned to Katarina.

"I guess Karma was right?" Katarina didn't understand, and only raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Do good things for others, and the act will be repaid in kind. I delivered the letter for you, and its thanks to that letter that you and Dad came to save us." Katarina pondered that for a moment as she opened the door with a key from Quinn's father. "I suppose you're right there, though I think you owe me. Delivering a letter isn't equal to saving a life." She cast a short grin Quinn's way as Quinn stepped in after her, shutting the door.

"Okay yeah, you're right there. I owe you at least a dozen." She walked along until she found a box with her name labelled on it, unceremoniously pulling off her prison garb, it was only Katarina in there with her so it was not as if there was any problem; and getting dressed back into the tight fitting jerkin and trousers of Swain's guard. "I almost miss the big overcoat that came with this disguise, it's a freezing cold night."

"Well it wasn't helped by you stripping naked."

Quinn blushed a little, "Oh be quiet, there's nothing there you don't have so it's no big deal. C'mon, let's go see how Dad and Garen are faring." She pulled her crossbow from the box, loading a single bolt into it. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, she really didn't want to prove Jarvan right by killing a fellow Demacian.

Katarina cast a teasing smirk her way, jokingly saying. "I think I should be worried after my fiance spent the last few days locked in a small cell with a girl with curves like that." Which only set Quinn off blushing even more, her face practically a tomato as she followed along behind, Katarina letting out a devilish cackle as she sauntered on. They swiftly arrived at where the two men were working, sweat rolling down their brow's despite the chill of the night as they slammed their picks into the heavy mortared stone, a big enough for one of the girls to crawl through had by now opened up, but it seemed they wouldn't be there in time. Quinn's father paused in between swings and looked back to the pair, shaking his head worrieldy.

"This is taking longer than we thought it would. Girls... I'm going to need you to take care of the next patrol when they get down here." He said with a frown.

"Oh well that's easily ta-" Started Katarina, only to be cut off.

"Non-lethally, Katarina, I don't want any Demacian blood spilt tonight, especially not that of my own lads."

"Oh... Well that shouldn't be too tough, Quinn, you're an expert in work behind the lines aren't you?"

"Mhmm."

"Then as I said, easily taken care of." Assured Katarina.

"Right, good, they're due in ten minutes. Be ready you two." They nodded and Quinn led the way this time, heading to the doorway and crouching within the shadows in the crook of the wall beside it, Katarina swiftly took up position on the other side, both disappearing into their respective meagre cover with the ease of experts. Soon enough the patrol arrived, the door swinging open from the outside as one by one they filed in, sergeant at the front, by the time they'd closed the door behind them, he'd noticed the sound of the picks at work.

"What in the hell is that? C'mon men." He set off to jog towards the noise, his men following with swords drawn, though they never got the chance to use them. The one furthest to the back, Quinn took care of with the only noise being a brief gurgle, her arm tight around his neck, in moments he'd gone slack in her grasp and she lowered him to the floor. The one after him, Katarina had bounced headfirst off the wall, and he was down on the ground out cold to, the rest were still entirely unaware of the girls presence as they swept around the corner, spotting Garen and Quinn's father hard at work. "Hey! What are you doing!" They ran up, but upon recognizing their captain, slowed slightly.

"Sir, uh... Why are you and the prisoner digging through the wall?" The sergeant asked, bemused. Quinn's father turned and grinned at him, rolling his eyes.

"Orders from above lad, couldn't say for the life of me, want to open up some old service tunnels they hid down here or something."

"And the prisoner?"

"Well Clause is off with a bad back, and Garen here's stronger than the lot of you, so I didn't see a problem with asking him for a hand. Not like he had anything better to do eh?" He chuckled a bit, slapping Garen on the back, Garen in the meanwhile, kept on digging as if they weren't there. "Tell you the truth, he's a bit down about the whole, "being executed for loving a Noxian thing", thought I'd give him something to keep his mind off it."

The sergeant frowned a bit. "Oh right... I'm sorry for that Garen, I wish the king would listen to reason."

"Aye I'm sorry to, lad." Cut in Quinn's father.

"What for, si-" A fist slammed into his head with a vicious hit to the temple, sending him to the floor and his blade skittering across it. The two soldiers behind him let out cries of alarm, moving to attack their own captain on instinct, just as twin shadows fell upon them from behind, the girls had been waiting for just the right opportunity and Quinn's father had given it to them." They stood up from their prey and idly dusted themselves off, smiling smugly at one another at a job well done. The Captain sighed and ran a hand through his thick white hair.

"I really am sorry lad. Girls, let's put them in a cell and lock them in, hopefully we'll be long gone by the time they wake up." The only sound in the dungeon was Garen diligently chipping away at the wall obstructing their escape as the three carried the five guards into an empty cell, locking them within and leaving the key just on the other side of the hall. Once they'd all returned to Garen, the girls a little out of breath from the weight of the soldiers, it seemed their escape was finally ready, a large dark hole opened up in the wall by Garen's efforts, Katarina handed him his sword as he abandoned the mine pick, glad to have his blade returned to him as he ducked in through the hole, followed shortly after by the rest of their small band. Dropping from sight and the captivity of the dungeon as they disappeared into the tunnel. They were free now, all they had to do was reach the enemy, and they'd be safe.


	15. Chapter 15

_**FIFTEEN**_

_**ESCAPE FROM DEMACIA**_

Dropping into the darkness of the service tunnels was, ironically enough, like falling yet another world away from the city of Demacia. If the Dungeons seemed as if they were better suited in Noxus, then this musty, dust filled, decrepit and lonely stone corridor belonged in the land of purgatory itself. Cobwebs hung thick from the ceilings, and though the stone had once been the bright, beautiful marble that Demacia was known for, now that marble was a mottled mess of ugly greys and browns, so caked in dust and dirt from the years it had gone with nary a soul to spy upon it. As the four intrepid escapees clambered down into it, they felt their throats clogging up with dust with every step sending a fresh burst blooming into the air. Quinn and her father both hacked out a series of coughs as Garen pulled the scarf that was forever around his neck to cover his face. Looking eerily reminiscent of a much more handsome and athletically able Swain. The only light shed here was that, that came from the hole they had created.

"Okay, according to the plans, we need only go straight and we should reach the exit soon enough. So, everyone, link hands, girls in the centre, Garen, keep a hand on the right wall, I'll keep a hand on the left so we don't accidentally turn at all. Everyone, got-" Quinn's fathers orders were cut off by dust catching in his throat yet again, after his coughing had quieted he finished with a hoarse, "that?" nods of assent were given all around as Quinn linked hands with both Katarina and her father, she was glad not to be holding hands with Garen simply because she was sure Katarina would tease her for it at some point, though at the same time, she was certain Katarina was glad to be holding her beloved's hand. Shaking the fanciful and romantic thoughts from her mind, she fell into step with them as they all began making their way into the dark.

The clamming dust only grew thicker as their sight faded, but all did their best to ignore it along with the sordid stench of the droppings of rats that occasionally they could feel skittering between their legs. It was a highly unpleasant journey to say the least. But after what seemed like an eternity with the darkness pressing in on them from every side light finally began to appear at the end of the tunnel and as it reached Quinn's eyes, relief reached her heart, it was as if the weight of the entirety of the castle had been pressing down on her whilst she was imprisoned within, but now that it seemed they would actually succeed in escaping Demacia and making their way to freedom that weight was finally falling from her back. It seemed she wasn't the only one, as Garen subconsciously began moving faster forcing them all to speed up to his jog to avoid his hand tearing away from Katarina's, as unnecessary as it may be now that they could once again see.

When they finally reached the end of the tunnel, they found themselves before a closed metal in the commercial districts of Demacia, hidden away in the alley of two buildings, light from the markets and buildings around spilling in even at this hour, advancing upon the gate Katarina shook it, hoping to find it unlocked. But sadly the men who had decided to cease its use hadn't been that foolish, and it did not move an inch, she stepped back, nearly colliding with Quinn as she shot her lover a sardonic smile. "Garen, unlock it for me please?"

"With pleasure." Garen grinned back at her as he stepped past, raising a tree trunk thick leg and slamming his boot into the door, the lock snapping inside its confines and sending the door crashing back against its hinges.

"I knew I kept you around for something." Chuckled Katarina as she stepped past, pulling up the hood of the scholars robes she wore as a disguise, Quinn followed after unable to suppress a smile at the couples rapor.

"Prison gates and pickle jars, all we need men for." She joked to Katarina as she came to her side, the other girl let out a snort of laughter as Garen and Quinn's father grumbled behind them .

"All right you two, enough joking about, that was the easy part. But now we have another problem, we have to get through the city gates still, and that means passing through an armed checkpoint. We have to get there fast to. Before anyone knows that we've broken you out, I've got the surcoats and caps of my regiment in my pack for you and Garen, Quinn. They should hopefully help fool anyone, at least at this time of night they shouldn't be able to pick out your features too easily." Intoned Quinn's father, as ever the one in charge, even amongst champions. He pulled out the aforementioned clothing and handed them across to Quinn and Garen as his words harshly brought Quinn back to reality, reminding of just how much danger they were still in. She nodded nervously to her father as she put the surcoat on over her jerkin and bundled her hair up underneath the cap. "Right, well let's be off then, there's horses waiting for us near the city gates. So once we're out, it should all be clear sailing." He assured, patting Quinn on the back as he sensed his daughters nervousness, she returned his loving smile and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thanks again for this Dad."

"And again, I promise you Quinn. There's nothing else a Father could do, with his daughters life on the line." He reached over and stroked her cheek for a moment, before patting her shoulder. "Now let's be off, we're not out of the woods quite yet." She nodded and with that final fatherly gesture, they moved out of the safety of the alleyway along with the inter-city lovers. If only Quinn had known how that night would turn out, she would've held onto her father and refused to let go, no matter what.

Stepping into the markets was a breath of fresh air to all, literally and figuratively. Even at this late hour, people wandered the streets going about their business, the smell of delicacies wafted from the open doors of restaurants as men and women wandered the streets, dressed their best so as to impress, blissfully unaware of their princes obsession, his willingness to kill his subjects, his friends, simply for following their hearts and doing what they thought right.

Being back in the city of white and gold made the dungeon seem like a dream, for it seemed impossible that such a place could exist within the walls of this city, the city that gleamed even when no sun shined upon it, few would be able to accept that within the cities inner sanctum, within its palace of beauty and splendour, lay a place reserved purely for death, to hold those the leaders of the city perceived as guilty before their lives were stolen from them. Such an idea seemed so utterly against the ideals of the people that prided themselves on being the absolute paragons of humanity, the people that put themselves above all others standing on a mountain of moral superiority over their opposition in the city of Noxus, though... Perhaps that was it, they believed themselves so perfect that anyone committing the most meagre of crimes would through that image of perfection into doubt. That was why they had the death sentence, so they could assure themselves when the criminal was no more that their city was still one of perfection, that all who still lived in its walls were free of fault. That was the illusion that the royals, that Jarvan projected upon their city.

It really was obvious why others called it the city of hypocrites.

As the group walked on through the city streets, Quinn lost in her thoughts as she so often was, the others cast their eyes around, looking for any sign of pursuit. Of any sign that someone might know that they had made their escape from the jail. Any sign that they had recognised any of the three champions, the two prisoners or the Noxian privateer. The results of any of them being discovered, especially by any of the may patrols that walked the nights streets, were sure to be devastating. But so far, it seemed their luck was holding, the one patrol they had ran into passed them by with only the nods of one group of bored soldiers to the next, all ready to turn in to their beds and too exhausted to even think of looking closer at the fellow soldiers they passed. When they had passed that group by, all of the four had let out a collected sigh of relief, the breaths they'd released easily rivalling the strongest of Janna the wind mage's magic. After that tense but in the end uneventful run in the group successfully left the commercial districts of Demacia, heading on through the outlying residential ones, getting closer and closer to their destination, and the end of all three of their lives as Demacian's.

Leaving the city of Demacia would mean something different for each of the three who hailed from the city-states lands.

For Quinn, leaving the lands would in truth mean little, like her father she had grown up in the outskirts, the rural villages that fell under Demacia's protection, but really held few of its startlingly hardline values. People had many homes in their lives, not places where they lived, but places where they felt they really belonged and the city of Demacia had never been that for Quinn, her home was deep in the forest, exploring and adventuring with nary a worry other than the dangers she may face on the way, her home was behind enemy lines, relying on her wits and skills to survive and see her mission through, and of course, her home was in the town she had been born in, with its small population and close knit people, with everyone knowing and getting along with everyone else. To Quinn, the city of Demacia had always merely been a station she was forced to reside in when she had joined Jarvan's elite, she disliked the stuffy big city atmosphere, or the arrogant nature of its populace. She didn't have friends here as she spent as little time as she could within the confines of the wall. So in the end, leaving here with her father in tow, would be naught but an escape into joyous freedom for Quinn.

For her father, it would be like leaving a family behind. Quinn was of course, the only family he had left now, but all of his men and women, all those who served under him, they were under his wing, under his protection, and though not as close to any as he was to his daughter they were all in a way, his children. He was a soldier of Demacia and had been for many years, so to cast that, and the trust his soldiers placed in him away to save the life of his daughter. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but he knew it was the right choice.

The one leaving this city hit the hardest was Garen. Garen was a true embodiment of the picture Demacian's portrayed themselves as, he was kind, honourable, brave and strong. He had given his all in service to this city, and had truly believed in it and all it represented. Now, not only had he been betrayed by the city, but he had been betrayed by his closest friend, the prince. Now he had no choice but to leave all he lived for behind, along with his entire family. He could only hope Jarvan wouldn't take his rage on Garen and Quinn's escape out on them.

And now, it was time for them to make that exit.

The group had made their way through the residential districts without much issue, and now stood before the great gates of Demacia, statues covered in gold rising fifty feet into the air, past heroes of the city raising their blades in salute to the land they had served in life, huge columns of marble rising behind them. This gate was made to impress all who entered through it, and to make the splendour and majesty of the city clear the moment they stepped under its shadow, and also to set them in awe of the power it must hold to have raised its gates so high. But they weren't all gilt and glamour, past those statues were the thick walls of the city themselves, made to hold back any invader, and hidden on either side of the grand gate, engraved with battles and victories of the past were garrisons of soldiers, ready to repel any who would try enter. Those were what the four would have to get past to make their escape. They did their best to stride with confidence, Katarina and Quinn's father on the sides to make it harder to make out the escaping prisoners features. As Quinn passed under the gate she swore she had seen a glint of blue skin, enclosed in red armour up on the walls, but passed it off in her mind as just another soldier, finally they had made it through, the soldiers did not question them as they moved on through the gates, finally escaping from the walls of Demacia. They had done it, they had actually evaded their execution, and not a single person had to die for them to make their escape. Quinn grinned up at her father as Garen leaned down and pecked Katarina's cheek, both overwhelmed with relief and glee.

That's when everything went wrong.

Their first warning was an ear piercing roar, rumbling their ribcages within their chests, all four of them spun just in time to see a great dragon leaping from the wall towards them, wings folded in for maximum impact, silhouetted against the moon they could see a rider straddled across its neck. A rider with a very distinctive pole-arm.

Jarvan had caught wind of their escape, and he had brought Shyvanna, his personal guard with him. The group scrabbled back, but all were still knocked from their feet by the shockwave of the half-dragons landing, Jarvan leapt off her back, holding his pole-arm at the ready as troops began to stream out from the gates. They had known they were coming, they hand only let them get through the gates so as to avoid damage to the city.

"Did you truly think I would let you leave, traitors?" He growled, his voice more bestial than even that of Shyvanna, who stood ready to crush any who dared try and run, as he stepped forwards towards Quinn, raising his pole-arm. "I was going to say a few words for you at your execution you know? Say that despite your betrayal you've both done many good things for this city, I wanted you to be remembered fondly, but now you go and do this. You will get no words from me, and tonight, I will be your executioner." He snarled as he slashed down at Quinn, even as she tried to pull herself back from him, the silvery edge of the blade whistled through the air towards her neck. Yet again it seemed her dream had come true. But just as deaths scythe neared her neck it and its real world counterpart in Jarvan's scythe were thrown aside, Jarvan himself stumbling, in his fury he hadn't seen Quinn's father rising, he hadn't seen the fist flashing for his face, he hadn't heard the blade being drawn.

"You will not touch my daughter you stupid pup, don't you dare touch her! She did nothing wrong and you know it!" Screamed her father, his words a physical blow to all the soldiers nearing them, their captain, the one man who had truly earned their loyalty through action not just his station was against them, was defending the prisoner, where they doing the right thing. But Jarvan came back with the speed of a trained warrior, his blade parting the air as it swung for his attackers chest, only for it to slide right on past as he dodged with the speed only a true veteran had, his blade snaked out and left a score along Jarvan's arm right where his pauldron intersected with his breastplate. "All of you! Get out of here! Run!" Ordered Quinn's father, knowing for a fact that he would not see this night through, but he'd be damned if he let anyone here lay a finger on her. Quinn and the others had by now gotten to their feet and were in all readiness moving to his aid. But Jarvan fought like a coward until the end, he kicked the aged veteran back to give himself room to slam his blade into the earth, lava rising from far below, pushing the stone up around him and his opponent into an impenetrable wall, so that none may intrude on their fight, over the wall he yelled to Shyvanna and his troops.

"Kill them! Kill them all!" His voice disappeared as he fell back into the fight with the captain, Shyvanna rushing to do as her prince commanded, the soldiers falling in behind, but with great reluctance, the sounds of battle could still be heard from within the walls as Katarina grabbed at Quinn's hand, the girl having been standing askance as her father disappeared.

"Quinn! We need to go! I'm sorry, leave him!"

"No! I won't leave Dad behind, he wouldn't have left us!" Quinn yanked away from her grasp, moving forwards even as the full weight of the Demacian army advanced on her, but her hopes were dashed against the wall as her fathers voice, raised in a death howl resounded from within the marble ring. Quinn screamed in turn, only moving faster. Her crossbow rising and firing bolt after bolt at the dragon baring down on her.

"DAD!"

She likely would have died then and there, rushing in on a fruitless quest to save her father, if not for Garen sweeping her up over his shoulder, running at a fast sprint away from the army chasing after them. Survival instinct outweighing his desire to defend or avenge the man who had been a father figure to him for the whole of his military career. Atop his shoulder Quinn reached pointlessly towards the ring as it fell, revealing her father on the ground, his stomach torn open and life blood dashed over the road, Jarvan standing over him with his blade pointed right back at her, as if to say you're next.

"DAAAAAD!"


	16. Chapter 16

**_SIXTEEN_**

**_AND A PIRATE IS FREE_**

The horses were waiting just as they'd hoped they'd be, the athletic couple easily reaching them ahead of the army at their heels, even with Quinn carried over Garen's shoulder, the girl still lost in her shock and anguish, sobbing uncontrollably even as she bounced from Garen's shoulder with every step, the giants lumbering steps practically winding her. With all the excitement all four of the horses were skittish, having heard the screams and battle cries of the soldiers in the distance, they all whinnied and brayed as they saw the three champions approaching, pulling at their bridles which were all tied to a long branch. The four of them were a painful reminder that one of their number was now gone, the man who was responsible for starting the rescue in the first place was dead. They didn't need that fourth horse now. In fact, with the state Quinn was in they didn't need the third either, Katarina slashed all the horses bindings and mounted one as fast as she could as Garen put Quinn down in front of him on the horses back, climbing up behind her so his arms would keep her stable.

"Come on, we have to lose them before they call in the cavalry!" Hollered Katarina, already pulling away from the horses resting place, giving one of the spare horses a good boot to the flank, its already stretched nerves being pulled so taut they snapped and whiplashed its mind, sending the poor nervous beast running hell for leather the other way, the other free horse instinctively followed, hopefully they would distract them for a moment or two. With that she spurred her own horse, heading east from the sparkling city, Garen and Quinn not far behind. Their horses hooves pounded against the ground, kicking up showers of dirt with every galloping step, the tree's of the forest pressed in around them, casting them into shadowy gloom, even as the sun began to breach the horizon, with the densely packed landscape, Garen and Katarina were pushed to their limit keeping their horses from barrelling into the tree's as they sped into view, one miss-step, one stray root catching and all would be for naught, their bodies broken against the trunks of the unforgiving forest. Even with this danger pressing in on them from all sides, it seemed almost a relief in comparison to the one falling behind them. The sounds of the pursuit had dropped away, and for a time it seemed as if they had really done it, they had escaped the Demacian army, and better yet, they were fast approaching a break in the forests into the plains-lands that surrounded the city, once they'd reached those they could truly use the speed of the steeds beneath them to its fullest, and the Demacian army would never see hide nor hair of them as long as they didn't stop until they were free of their pursuers domain. By now, Quinn had began to recover from her shock, and was curled over the horses neck, hugging to it for comfort as much as for stability, her face half buried within the soft hairs of its mane, Garen's thick arms were on either side, guiding the horse as finally sunlight fell upon their faces, their steeds emerging from the woods onto the near obstacle free grasslands.

But it seemed today, their foes were getting all the good cards that fate was dealing. They were not alone on the plains, waiting there for them further up the road to the border of Demacian lands were Demacia's leonine lancers, the elite horsemen of the Demacian army. Each one was straddled across a beautiful sandy yellow charger, their long hafted blades casting a glare in the early morning sun. "How did they know where we were? How did they get here so fast!?" Screamed Katarina as she gaped in shock and horror at their impending doom, Garen's brow furrowed, his lips growing tighter as he gazed at the horsemen, his own horse not slowing in the slightest as he made a quick course correction, abandoning the speed of the road to head for the next thicket of tree's, where the huge muscled bodies of the chargers would not stand a chance. Katarina swiftly got the idea and turned after him.

"They were probably on patrol nearby and Jarvan sent a messenger falcon their way to warn them of our approach, it's obvious where our destination is, he just has to set up strong points along the road to catch us out." He warned, his own face staying cool and collected for his companions benefit more than anything else, but when they were half way across the gap towards the haven of the tree's a resound cry came from the commander of the lancers.

"Charge!"

With that each and every one of them lowered their lancers, their higher ground giving them only greater speed as they rushed downhill towards the fleeing champions. Garen spurred his horse on harder, but knew they wouldn't be able to reach the thicket before they were dashed against its trunks by those gleaming blades. "Quinn! Can you do anything?" Quinn looked up at him, then to the lancers, seeming to only notice them now, her mind having been entirely focused on the moment of her father's death, but realising she may well join him without ever having the chance for revenge an ounce of focus injected itself into her eyes and she nodded to her driver, sitting up against her driver as she drew out a bolt, no longer did she have any qualms on harming Demacian's, not after what they'd done to her, not after they'd killed her father, not after they'd stolen everything away from her in the name of their princes petty feud. She looked up at Garen for a moment and merely commanded, "keep us steady," looking calmly back to the chargers now only a few dozen metres from them and growing ever closer. Her eyes were colder than any Freljord winter as she drew bead, picking her target, the man in the centre, his armour was the most decorated, he had that look in his eyes that suggested he was well used to command, and he held his horse the tiniest bit ahead of his men, eager to be the first into glory. He was their captain.

He was her target.

She didn't aim for the man himself, but rather fired the small, deadly bolt at his mount, the bladed tip embedding itself in its foreleg just below the shoulder, severing the tendons there. With a shriek of pain the horses gallop came to an end, rider and mount going down in a tangled mass of limbs, knocking down another on either side as they slammed into the pile up, one horseman stopped to help his compatriots, pulling his horse to a stop with difficulty, but the other kept on charging, eager to avenge their pain, Quinn loaded another bolt and this time she didn't aim for the mount, the projectile instead hitting the man in the unarmoured abdomen, the lancer knocked from his horse to be dragged along the ground by his foot, still caught in the stirrup. Katarina's features were split in a vicious grin at the sight of the scouts handiwork as she dodged her horse around the confused charger and caught up with the pair, Garen however had a pained look in his eyes, he hated that it had come to this, that his own countrymen had turned against him at the behest of a man who had been his lifelong friend, that he now had no choice but to take part in killing them to ensure his friends and his own safety. With a resigned sigh he patted Quinn's back as they hit the thicket, glad to once more be embraced by its shadows.

"Good job Quinn," she grunted an acknowledgement, but said nothing more, her eyes locked on her own crossbow and her mind once more lost in thought, her eyes still clouded with visions of Jarvan scything through her father like so much chaff, and thoughts of returning the favour. Garen shook his head, knowing what she must be going through, he turned his attention back to guiding the horse through the tree's as he called out to Katarina. "Kat! I doubt we're going to be able to get to the Noxian border by road, please tell me you have a backup plan. Because by now there'll be blockades up and down every highway." Katarina shot him a smile as she road along side, their mounts dodging and dipping through the tree's with a gracefulness the chargers they had left in a heap could never have managed.

"Of course I do Garen, once we're out of the woods, head south towards the coast. I have a friend waiting there for us. The only hard part is going to be getting the signal off without the coast guard coming down on us."

Garen raised an eyebrow as his curiosity came to the fore. "Friend? Who? How are they going to get us out of here?"

"You'll see." Kat shot him a grin as they burst from the forest, this time she took the lead as they hit the road, for now there was no one to stop them so they were able to fully open up, the horses hooves eating up the distance as they got closer to one of the small beaches that surrounded the Demacian port. For a good while the trio rode together in silence, all pairs of eyes focused on the horizon as it drew closer and closer. It seemed Fate had given them a good hand for once, as they did not run into any more trouble along the way. The Demacian army expected them to be going east towards the border, but now they were practically doubling back and going the other way, so for now they were safe.

Nearing the coast, they decided it was high time to leave the horses behind, the poor beasts had been run ragged from the moment they had mounted them back at the gates of Demacia, and by now they were exhausted. They had well earned their rest, and the three could only hope that whoever found them would give them a good home. They stepped from their seats atop them and the horses let out faint snorts at the weight on their backs being finally relieved. Garen appreciatively patted the muzzle of his own mount, thanking it for its service as Katarina clambered down off her own. "Come on, not far now. All we have to do is light a signal fire on the rocky outcrop at the north end of the beach and he'll come to pick us up." Garen and Quinn nodded and followed after her, finally coming into sight of the beach itself.

It stretched on for at least a mile in either direction, either end walled off by the edges of large cliffs, forming a natural port. One of many that Demacia had access to, having been built on some of the strategically best land available in Valoran. At this time in the morning, few were there apart from the contingent of the coast guard stationed here, hidden away in their almost fort like barracks, 3 large piers rose away from the building with the coast guards ships stationed there, ready to go out on their next patrol. A few of the coast guard were visible going for early morning jogs along the white sand of the beach, waves crashing down a scant few metres from them as the scent of salt washed all the way up to the trio as they hit the peak of the hill leading down to the coastline. Katarina nodded to the north, pointing to a natural pier of rocks rising precariously over the water off the cliff face. "He should have set up some wood there for us already for the fire. We just have to light it." Katarina set off at a brisk jog towards the destination, seemingly unaffected by the sea's chilly wind, Quinn however was not so lucky, and shivered in her sleeveless waistcoat, chills running down her spine and raising goose bumps over her skin, Garen took note of her discomfort and took off large blue trademark scarf, wrapping it about her neck. Despite the shock and despair that had gripped her ever since her father's death, Quinn still smiled her thanks up at the vanguard before the pair joined Katarina in jogging to their destination and hopefully, their salvation. At this distance, the Coast guard had no hope of making them out, and simply mistook them for Demacian citizens out for an early morning jog, so the only reception they received was a few waves from a group jogging by the other way down at the bottom of the beach.

Soon enough, they'd reached the far end of the beach, but looking out at the natural pier, Quinn couldn't help but gulp with trepidation, though it was free from the waves embrace, it was thin and almost entirely covered with slick, slippery moss. The couple looked at one another, before their gazes both fell upon the smallest of the group, Quinn.

"Quinn? You should have the easiest time of it. Here you can use my tinder box." Assured Katarina as she passed it to her, despite the danger she was about to get herself into yet again, Quinn couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Where were you keeping this? You could barely fit a letter in your pocket." She turned as she asked the question, only to spot a faint blush on Garen's cheeks, and she had a feeling she knew just where the much better endowed woman had been keeping it. "I... Uh, never mind." With that, she began her precarious journey, clambering up to the pier with ease, but arriving at its slick surface, she began to take things much more slowly, spray peppered her face as she crawled along the pier, arms spread wide along it to improve her balance as she pushed herself along with her legs, the tinder box held tight. Finally, after a nerve wracking minute of crawling, she reached the blocks of lumber set up for her in advance, they smelled horribly acrid, as if someone had poured something on them advance to ensure they smoked more, and as she lit the fire she discovered they in fact had, practically blinded by the stinging smoke that spouted from the small fire she'd lit as it rapidly rose to fill the air, she backed slowly along the pier and climbed back down, though with her eyes still tear filled from the smoke, she couldn't quite see clearly and made a miss step, falling on the final leap of the descent, she likely would have landed rather hard if Garen hadn't stepped in the way and caught her in his arms just before she fell against the hard rock floor. "Oof! Uh... Thanks Garen."

"Not a problem." He smiled as he lowered her down, but that smile left his face as cries of alarm resounded out back down the beach, the coast guard had seen the fire, and were coming to investigate. Katarina had just drawn her blades when Quinn noticed they were not the only ones who'd spotted it, seemingly emerging from the cliff face itself, a huge galleon left a well hidden cave, a jolly Rodger topping its mast, rescue had arrived. "Kat... Our back up is Gangplank!?"

"Yes. Who else do you think could get us out of here?"

"Okay, good point. But, Gangplank?"

"Hey, he's a nice enough guy once you get to know him, and his accent is funny." Garen merely rubbed his temples at that as Katarina stowed away her blades, ignoring the fast approaching and armed coast guard as they too noticed the ship, their own swiftly leaving dock to combat it. "C'mon, he won't have time to send a raft to pick us up. We have to swim out." With that, the Noxian sprinted into the water, Quinn swiftly following, the two girls dived into the tide and lithely began swimming towards the ship as the coast guard yelled for them to stop, their sleek physiques well suited for cutting through the water, Garen however was rather more hesitant and snarled in annoyance as he pulled off his pauldrons before diving in, with his bulk he had a rather hard time of it, if he had been wearing those as well: He likely would have sunk.

Against the incoming tide, it was anything but an easy swim, the waves crashed down on them constantly, and through their entire journey they could feel the coastguards ships bearing down on them, the guns growing ever closer and fear rising in their bellies, they wouldn't have had a chance at defending themselves while they were in the water and if they caught up they would have been literally dead in the water. But thankfully, they made it in time, reaching the pirate ship before the Demacian vessels caught up and eagerly scrambled up the rope ladder lowered down for them, crashing down on the decking gasping for air, gulping it in like a man in the desert just having found an oasis. Katarina was the first to her feet and that was largely thanks to the captain himself hauling her up, he was the very image of the Bilgewater piracy trade, an old, once elegant captain coat hanging from his shoulders, the sleeves torn away to reveal his impressive musculature and the hem shredded from years of wear and tear, his beard fell well down to his chest and his breath was anything but pleasant, smelling like a mix of citrus and bad rum. But he was on their side, and that's what mattered. "Ahoy yeh wee minx, ah din't think yeh'd make it, we was star'in' to worry 'bout our pay." He said with a booming laugh, Katarina couldn't help but grin back at her friend as she brushed a bang from her eyes.

"Shush up you damn bilge rat, like they could kill me. C'mon let's be on our way, we've got a few followers if you haven't noticed." She nodded back towards the coast guard, who were rapidly getting closer.

"Hah! Yer worried about them damned minnows? Lads! Show our friends what it is we do to minnows!" The rest of the pirate crew, each as dastardly and foul as their captain, if not more so; laughed as they jumped to their duties, cannon fire began to rain down upon the coast guard, their own inferior weaponry not even in range to return fire as holes were blasted in their ships. Gangplank moved towards the wheel, his booming laugh echoing even over the cannon fire as he took up the helm, getting the ship back in the wind and beginning their exit of Demacian waters, only a single one of the coast guard ships had survived their barrage, and its crew had directed it back to port, the ship fearfully limping away from the pirate galleon.

Quinn was sitting up against the railing beside Garen, both watching the proceedings quietly as they caught their breath, in Quinn's head relief was combating with the pain in her heart at the death of her Father, they had done it, the Demacian's would have a damn hard time catching up to this ship before it got out of their waters, then it was clear sailing to Noxus, to Valor.

To her new home.


	17. Chapter 17

_**SEVENTEEN**_

_**THE MAIDENS VOYAGE**_

_****_Being aboard Captain Gangplank's ship, it was a strange experience for Quinn. All her life she had been taught of duty to ones nation, that your life, your deeds were measured by what you had done to help others, to advance your city in the world. Even Noxian's were like that in a way, they served to advance themselves in the city, but in doing so, they served to advance the city. The pirates weren't like that, not in any way at all, each of them lived purely for themselves and their closest friends. They lived not to advance any greater cause, but to enjoy life to its fullest, reaping the benefits and not giving a damn for the consequences. In essence, the pirates were the first people she'd met who were truly free. They were only even bound to this ship because Gangplank had earned their loyalty, they were not born knowing to be loyal to him, not raised to believe that they should be. But rather, like her father, he had proven himself through actions rather than expectations.

Truly his ship was a wonder to behold as well, as large as many a Demacian warship, it was his pride and joy, his lady, like all sailors he referred to his vessel as if she were a fine woman, and one he loved dearly. Quinn and Katarina, being, not only the only women on board, but the guests of honour got to take part in all her luxuries to, Gangplank had even given up his captains quarters for the pair to share, Katarina had commented that she had planned to share a bunk with Garen, but Gangplank had quieted those complaints with a very simple rule.

"If Ah'm not gettin' any, noither does any other man on me ship." He had oft reminded them of this rule, unceremoniously pulling them apart whenever he found the two trying to have a romantic moment in one of the more private sections of the ship, Katarina always found it amusing more than anything else and every time she'd merely saunter off, blowing a kiss to Garen and promising he'd have his fun another time. Poor Garen on the other hand, was getting really rather frustrated, though he persevered it as he did everything else, having finally decided to come clean to the world about their love and being able to be close to her for the first time in so very long, it was almost painful for the captain to be keeping them apart so. Quinn had almost become a replacement to Garen in a way, there was only a single large bed in the captains quarters, and in truth it was the only bed on the ship, everyone else slept in a hammock, so the girls shared. Quinn had a really rather hard time sleeping, still struggling to cope with the loss of her father. So for most nights of the week long journey she and Katarina would stay up late together, huddled under the blankets against the sea's chill, simply talking about their lives. This was one such night.

Katarina was awoken by the bed rising slightly as the other occupant climbed out of it, she was, as she had to be: A very light sleeper, when so many of your own countrymen considered you a prime target for assassination it was an essential trait, she blearily opened her eyes to see Quinn standing by the windows, staring out into the storm that wracked the night time sea's, the rain hissing down forming a rather pleasant backing track of white noise, Quinn had one hand pressed to the window, her forehead pressed to the freezing glass beside it, Kat raised herself into a sitting position onto the bed, startling the other girl by speaking up. "You okay Quinn?" Quinn's head whipped around, a gasp escaping her lips, but hidden from Kat's ears by the storm as she realised the rooms other occupant was awake.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine... I was just... Dreaming about him." She mumbled, her head bowed down as if in prayer, Kat could only just make her out over the thundering waves and the hiss of the rain, but she could make out enough for an understanding smile to flit to her lips. She patted the bed for Quinn to sit down beside her. Quinn hesitated for a moment, but as a draught ran through the cabin from under the door, she made up her mind and hurried back into bed beside her.

"You know... I didn't know your Father for very long, but from what I saw, he was a wonderful man. He rather reminded me of my own father, in fact, you remind me of me when I... Well, after he went missing." Quinn's eyes widened, she had never known much about the Noxian blades woman, and her father having vanished was certainly news to her. Katarina gave her a sad smile and patted her back gently.

"Yeah, no one knows what happened to him, but if he's alive out there. I'm going to find him someday, but the point is, I know what it's like to lose your father Quinn, it's not easy. Hell in a way I'd say you're lucky, knowing for sure if your fathers gone. I have to keep hoping, but there's every chance those hopes are completely false. Just... Remember your dad for the man he was, huh? I mean he did all this to save you, if it wasn't for him I'd have never even known what happened. So I say, remember him as what he was, a hero. Don't worry if you could've saved him or not, he died doing what he thought was right, and you can't ask for more." Quinn nodded with a faint smile, resting gently against Katarina, allowing the taller woman to wrap an arm around her.

"Thanks Kat... Heh, you're a lot kinder than your rep would make me think. I can see why Garen likes you."

"Oh? And what _do_ they say about me in Demacia, hmn?" Katarina's pearly white teeth gleamed in the darkness as she grinned at the Demacian, though she was rather brought up short when, making rather a large effort, the Demacian grinned right on back.

"That you're a vicious, soulless murderer, but at the same time a maiden more beautiful than any other, in the same way well crafted blades are beautiful. A hand of the reaper himself, all who face you should steel themselves." That gave Katarina pause for a moment, and she waited a time before responding.

"Actually, that's all pretty accurate-" She laughed boisterously, "- especially the beautiful part." She got a playful shove from Quinn for that, the Noxian killer letting out a girlish shriek as she tumbled from the bed onto the floor, the blankets going with her she landed in a tangled heap. Quinn couldn't help but laugh at her misfortune, but those laughs were cut short as Katarina got to her feet, a deadly smile on her lips, "I'll get you for that, feather head." With that as her only warning, Katarina sprung forward and the two spent a good while laughing as they faux sparred one another, the fight only ended when they heard the door groaning from the weight of one or two people leaning up against it. Katarina giggled and whispered in Quinn's ear, "Looks like we've woken up some of the crew, shall we give them something to dream about?" It took a moment for the more innocent of the two to catch on, but when she did she gave her a grin in return even as a blush clouded her cheeks.

"Let's." Quinn whispered back and the pair climbed off the bed, stepping over towards the door. Quinn waved Katarina on, telling her to start as she wasn't entirely sure on the plan, Katarina grinned and suddenly lightly kicked the door, letting out a mock moan of Quinn's name, barely stifling her laughter as the sound of surprised blustering could be heard from the other side of the door, Quinn followed along by moaning on back, and Katarina kept their game going by murmuring towards the latch of the door.

"You're so much better at this than Garen." Suddenly, the handle began to turn, only for Gangplanks usual commanding yell to burst in through the door as he came across what was sure to be a rather interested scene outside.

"Davey blast yeh Demacian! What'd Oi say when you got aboard me ship!? If I ain't gettin' any, noither are you."

"But Gangplank, they're, the girls, I mean, they're, agh!" What could only be Garen forcibly being dragged back across the deck by the burly pirate resounded out, for a moment all was silent as the girls stood there, stifling their laughter only for footsteps to come back towards the doorway, both practically leapt from their skin as the door opened and Gangplank uncaringly poked his head in.

"Same goes for you lassies, unless I'm in it wit' yeh, tha' bed's for sleepin'." He intoned in his usual commanding, slurred, and ever so slightly fatherly voice that he took with them, the captain didn't even flinch as two bright red hand marks were left on his cheeks by the surprised women, he just gave them a grin and a wink before pulling his head back through the door and closing it behind him. "You sleep tight now!" He called through the door as his footsteps faded away under the hiss of the rain. The unlikely pair of newfound friends, Demacian ranger and Noxian blade stood there for a moment in silence before erupting into laughter, finally making their way into bed once more and collecting the blankets from where they were strewn on the floor, they lay back down beside one another, smiling cheekily as their drowsiness began to catch up with them, the older of the pair pressed her hand to Quinn's cheek for a moment and whispered to her as they settled in.

"I promise you Quinn... Your dad's at peace now, and we'll avenge him. So don't let him plague your dreams anymore, he wouldn't want that." Quinn nodded slightly, her joviality lessened as her eyes grew cold with certainty. Her voice felt as deadly as any arrow as she swore right back.

"Jarvan will pay."

Katarina gave her a grim nod of agreement back, and the two finally let sleep catch up with them. Both glad to have found a friend in the other, that would hopefully last them a good time to come.

Other than her nightly talks with Katarina, Quinn generally spent her time aboard the ship at the stern, watching as the sea rolled out behind them and seagulls tagged along over headed, taking seat in the crow's nest when their wings needed rest, this was her place of choice not only because it was away from a large amount of the hustle and bustle of the ship, but also because this is where Gangplank spent his days as well, manning the wheel of the ship and guiding it through the seas towards their destination. At first she had thought the pirate really very unpleasant for his blunt and surly nature, thinking him little more than yet another thug of bilge-water, but as she watched him, exchanging words from time to time, more and more as time passed, she realised the pirate had a much deeper personality than the one he gave off by his demeanour, in truth he rather reminded her of her father, he not only inspired and earned loyalty from his men, but he was loyal to them in turn, he didn't have the persona of an outsider as many a commander did with his men, like her father he was part of the boys, treated as one of their own. He cursed and bawled them out whenever they made the most minor of mistakes, but he shared in their jokes, laughed and brawled with them after dinner when they were all deep in their drink. All in all, despite his uncountable faults, the most prominent of them being that which all his men shared, a rather heavy lack of personal hygiene; Quinn couldn't help but find herself liking the pirate. He seemed to like her in turn, always concerned for how she was coping, and doing his best to keep her spirits up when he had the time and wasn't throwing Garen in the brig for his own amusement, he'd be with her, joking, asking questions about her life, learning more about her as he in turn answered her questions, and taught her the basics of being the helmsman for a ship. When they were out on open waters, he even let her take the wheel for a time, and Quinn had to admit, she had loved it. The ship turning to her whims as the wind blasted through her hair, it was a powerful feeling, to be in control of such a mighty vessel. This was likely where Captains got their arrogance from, it was hard not to be when you got to experience this nigh on every day. Gangplank had stood behind her, watching with a faint proud smile, his hand rested on her shoulder as he gave up reign of his lady for the young tormented girl who'd lost so much in the last week, the pirate was not usually a compassionate man, but he actually found himself enjoying doing the right thing for once with Quinn.

Sadly, like all good things, the pairs meeting had to come to an end soon enough, and in seemingly no time at all, it did. After a night of wonderfully strong wind and calm seas, the mighty pirate vessel, Dead pool reached port in a small Noxian outpost some twenty miles from the city itself. Quinn stepped from the captain's cabin early in the morning to find the crew working hard to tie up the ship and get its goods ready for trade while they were in town, she let out a soft gasp as she realised they had finally arrived, and moved back to her Cabin, clicking the door closed behind her and softly shaking her still slumbering bed mate. "Kat. Kat wake up, we're here." The other girl drowsily lifted her head from its place on the pillow, the fabric damp from where she'd been drooling into it.

"Whu-?... Oh!" She practically leapt from bed, scurrying about still half asleep as she searched for her pants and jacket, after a moment she looked up to find Quinn already holding them out for her, causing her to giggle in embarrassment. "Uh... Right, thanks." Quinn nodded with a grin back at her as she grabbed her crossbow from where it had been lying on a table for the last few days, sliding it into the holster at her hip before slipping her wing shaped quiver onto her back. Katarina slipped her many knives about her person, ignoring the feeling that Quinn thought they were hilariously overkill, finally the pair were ready to face the day and stepped out together onto the deck.

Gangplank and Garen were waiting for them, it seemed Garen was looking forward to getting off the ship as he was already fully dressed and looked as if he'd been awake for most of the night. Gangplank on the other hand, looked as laid back as ever, and gave the two a cheery wave as they approached. "Ahoy lassies, ready teh get yer land legs back?" He hollered with a faint grin, Quinn smiled a little at the pirates accent as she stepped to him.

"It'll be good to finally see Valor again, but... Tell the truth, Captain." She looked up at him with a faint smile, "I think I'll miss you a bit." The pirates grin softened back into a smile and he wrapped his arms about her, pulling the girl into a tight hug that made Quinn squeak in surprise.

"Ah'll miss you to lass, it was nice havin' someone with some good still in their hear's on me ship. Especially someone as cu'e as you." He grinned cheekily, producing a huge blush on the rangers cheeks, but all the same, she smiled and as she eased from the hug she planted a soft, grateful kiss on the Pirates cheek, giggling faintly as they turned rosy red beneath his beard.

"Thanks Captain, I hope I see you again some time." She turned from him to find Garen already making his way down the gangplank, glad to be back on solid ground and away from the tyranny of the pirate, Katarina however was waiting right by them. Once Quinn had stepped back she stepped in and hugged Gangplank in turn.

"Thanks for getting us out of there, Gangplank. Don't know what I'd have done without you."

He laughed oafishly, his teeth twinkling amidst his beard. "Do yah ever?" He only laughed louder as she shoved him back playfully. "Bu' enough o' tha', you know ah don' do nothin' for free lass, you promised me and my lads pay for this lil jaunt." He said that with a cold look of greed in his eye, at the end of the day, this wasn't a favour for a friend, it was a business venture with good acquaintances, and he expected those acquaintances to pay him back for his services, Katarina nodded, suddenly just as business like as the Captain had become, she relinquished her hold of him and stepped back.

"Go see the commander of this outpost, and tell him you are requestioning five hundred crowns of gold with permission of house Du Couteau, I'll tell him to hand it over when you pop up on my way out. That sound good to you captain?"

Gangplank grinned back, wringing his hands as his eyes twinkled with the thought of so much gold, he gave a short nod, "You're a good businessmen, Kittie, s'been a pleasure. See you in Bilge-water soon enough I expect."

"Actually... There was somewhere I was hoping to see you well before that." Katarina mumbled with a faintly hopeful look.

"Oh? An' where would tha' be, lass?" Gangplank asked, one eyebrow going up curiously.

"Me and Garen's wedding. I'd love to have you there."

A grin split Gangplanks face, wider than ever before and he swept up the deadly blade, twirling her about as she struggled in his strong grip. "Ah I'd love to, Kat! I'll see yer there!" He put her down, still grinning happily. "An' I hope to see you there to, Quinn." He shouted as the two finally began making their way after Garen, knowing that if they didn't drag themselves off they'd find yet another reason to stay aboard the ship. They waved as they departed, but the Captains words seemed to stir something in Katarina, as the two caught up to Garen she turned to Quinn.

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about that, Quinn... Would you like to be one of my maids of honour?"

Quinn felt her jaw slacken slightly, her heart swelling at the gesture, the request from Katarina being such a show of friendship even though they had only recently met. She felt herself tearing up a tiny bit as she nodded, beaming back. "I'd be honoured, Kat, there's nothing I'd like more." Kat grinned and kissed her on the cheek, much to Garen's ongoing annoyance at the lack of affection he was receiving, and with that, the three stepped from the pier, stopping shortly at the garrison to ensure Gangplank's pay, and giving the soldier there quite a start, with not only one of their cities champions walking in through the door, but two of the enemies following in behind her, nattering away as if they were all friends. After a short explanation, the three were on their way once more, having taken 3 horses from the garrison's stable to get them the rest of the way back to Noxus. It wouldn't be at all long until Quinn was reunited with Valor, and with her new friends in tow, she felt her spirits soaring as she imagined her meeting with Valor, though she had to wonder, with her time as a Demacian at an end, where would she go? What would she do with her life now?

When Demacia tore away its wings, what were those wings to do when they were finally free?


	18. Chapter 18

**_EIGHTEEN_**

**_A NEW NEST_**

The journey from the port to Noxus itself was mercifully uneventful, the three sat largely in silence, all lost in their own musings as the forests went by, Garen held the reigns as the two girls sat side on either side of him at the front of the cart. Quinn's eyes were mostly unseeing as they stared into the forests, her brain fizzing and popping within its skull cage. She was going to see Valor again, that thought alone was enough to drastically raise her mood in leaps and bounds, but there were so many others still pulling it down.

What was she to do now? Her Father was dead, he was the last family she had left, other than Valor she was all alone in the world now. All alone and unable to ever return to the nation she'd called home for so long, the nation she'd given her life to serving, the nation she'd done so much for, only for it to strike her down for staying loyal to her closest friend. The only haven she had from her country folk was there greatest enemy, Noxus itself, even now her best friend was probably nestled down in his nest beside Swain, the tyrant of Noxus's bird Beatrice. Soon their chicks would be hatched to... In the last week, Quinn's life had changed more than ever before, most everything she knew had been thrown into turmoil, everything she had been raised to believe in dashed and broken by this betrayal. Of course, she wasn't alone in that, in fact she feared the giant of a man beside her would be going through the same thing as her, but far, far worse.

Garen was the poster boy of Demacia, the leader of their great vanguard and the exemplar of what it meant to be a Demacian, he embodied every last one of the ideals Demacian's had drilled into them from birth, and he was an enemy to them for staying true to those ideals. Jarvan, his own best friend, the man he'd known since they were both children had declared him a traitor for daring to love the woman beside him, for daring to love Katarina, a Noxian. Right as he'd been preparing to ask Jarvan to be his best man at their wedding, only for Jarvan to order his execution. That was the kind of betrayal that would break most men.

Of course they all had things keeping them going at least, things to look forward to, things that helped pull them through the troubled times they'd had leaving Demacia once and for all. For the couple the one at the fore of both of their minds was of course their own wedding, that was the kind of thing that could pull you through most any catastrophe as long as the two of you truly loved one another. Quinn was looking forward to that to certainly, seeing as she was slated to be one of Katarina's maids of honour, but the one coming well before that was what really kept her going, getting to see her bird again, her closest companion on the world, Valor, the only person she considered family left. It wouldn't be long at all till she saw them she though, the cart was trundling at a healthy pace along the well kempt cobblestone road, birds of the forest calling to one another and helping keep Valor at the forefront of Quinn's mind as the smell of the forest washed through them all, helping put Quinn at rest. Up ahead they could see the mountainous city rising on the horizon, its foreboding architecture actually a welcome sight to Quinn, she actually found herself looking forward to seeing Swain again, as gruff as he may be the Tyrant had proved himself to be a far better man than she would have taken him for from the stories she'd been told.

She just hoped he'd be as glad to see her again.

The gates of Noxus drawing near sent a flutter of emotions through Quinn's heart, a nervous mix of anticipation, worry and hope. The last time she'd been here she'd snuck in without incident, her cloak and audacity more than enough to pass for a citizen of Noxus, but now she had Garen, the very face of Demacia himself with her, his appearance would likely draw issue, but... She had Katarina as well, one of the most famed warriors of Noxus and Garen's lover, hopefully she'd be able to get them through without a hitch. Hopefully.

As the shadow of the stone walls fell over their little cart, the guards took notice of them, it seemed to Quinn that they were as confused as she was nervous, after a few moments in huddle the troupe seemed to come to a decision and most spread out across the entryway, spears ready, however the captain of the guard slowly approached them, eyes locked on Katarina rather than the two former Demacian heroes. "We did not have word that you'd caught prisoners mam, let alone ones of such prestige..." the captain, a man slightly older than any of the trio, but infinitely less experienced inquired as his hands couldn't seem to decide whether to start stabbing with the sword in them, or put it away, resulting in an absent minded fumbling. Katarina gave him the confident sneer only someone born to command could truly master, arrogance, it seemed, was about ninety-nine percent of what made a commander.

"Who said they're prisoners captain? No... Noxus has two new recruits. More importantly, I've got a fiancé." She pulled Garen into a momentary kiss, leaving the giant in a happy daze, a befuddled smile plastered across his face as Katarina nonchalantly turned back to the blushing captain, "You wouldn't want to ruin my engagement by locking him up would you captain?"

By this point, Quinn was barely holding back her laughter as she watched the sheer audacity Katarina put on show here, the captain however was looking like he wished there was a small hole he could crawl into until all the crazy commanding officers left him alone again, he looked desperately to Quinn for some kind of hint as to what he should be doing, to which she could only respond with a shrug, blushing apologetically as she utterly failed to keep the smile off her face. Running a callused hand through his scruffy black hair, the captain eventually let out a sigh and stepped back, waving his men to let them through, he muttered something about this being above and beyond his pay grade as Katarina grinned like a lioness with a fresh deer for dinner. After a soft nudge from both girls, Garen remembered that he was the one with the reigns and off they went again through the gates, the gates of Noxus. Falling once more into the embrace of its thin, dark and tightly packed streets, citizens of the city turning their heads as the odd trio entered, some scowling, but most merely pursing their lips in confusion, most Demacian's who came through here were in chains after all. How strange it must feel for Garen to be escaping prosecution from his own nation by running to the one he'd spent his life fighting. Quinn had got over this moral conundrum somewhere along the way so instead of going into yet another depthless musing, she leaned over Garen's lap, grinning at Katarina, "I can't believe that actually worked Kat, that has to be the dumbest possible way you could have worked this and yet it worked!"

Kat let out a bark of laughter and grinned back at her, "My father always taught me that as long as you believe you're in charge, you can convince everyone else you are to." Quinn was about to respond when their conversation was rather rudely cut off by a loud thump as something landed hard on the back of the cart, or rather, someone. Turning around she saw a young man, dressed in an almost melodramatic black cape, along with a white shirt and dull red trousers, though he wasn't dressed as he normally would be on the fields of justice, Talon, the blades shadow was immediately recognisable thanks to his own blade, the long, exotic weapon attached to his arm, Katarina seemed rather unperturbed by his sudden appearance and turned to the assassin with a soft smile as Garen tried his best to watch them, the road, and the slowly growing crowd of curious onlookers letting out the occasional jeer and taunt in the Demacian's direction all at the same time. "Oh hello Talon, how long have you been tailing us?"

"Since you came within two miles of the city miss Du Coteau." Answered the assassin, almost no emotion crossing his face. "I thought it best I go ahead and tell the Tyrant you are on your way, is that all right?"

"That would be good, thank you Talon. We'll meet you there." Nodded back Katarina and without another word the assassin leapt from the cart and scaled one of the nearby buildings, the rooftops likely so much easier to cross than the packed streets. "Well, that's the easy part done with you two, now we just have to reach the fort in one piece..."

Moving through the city was even more nerve wracking for Quinn that it had been the first time, at least then she had the hood to hide in, no one knew she was a Demacian. This time however she and Garen garnered stares from every direction as they moved through the thin streets of Noxus, she wasn't too well known among the world's populace, but Garen certainly was, and despised in these parts. Though no one attacked them, there was the occasional shouted slur, and a host of deathly looks, but no one had raised a hand against them yet, nor had anyone tried to stop their passage.

Yet.

They reached the first checkpoint, the guard stations dotting the city every few blocks, and it was here Quinn braced for everything to go wrong, their luck had held for a time, but now they were actually in the city and by now word of mouth would have ensured there wasn't a single person who wasn't aware of it. A lump gathered in her throat as her eyes met a guards and he returned the petrified look with barely contained malice and contempt. Katarina however seemed as perfectly relaxed as ever, Quinn wondered what was it that let the girl be so assured of herself, of their safety. Though in moments she worked it out on her own.

Several of the guard approached the cart as two more moved behind it, the only one without a helmet moved to Katarina's side of the cart and Quinn noticed the stripes on his shoulders noting him out as a sergeant.

"Miss Du Coteau, your shadow stopped here on his way to the fort, he's ordered us to provide you an escort there to keep any civilian aggressors off of you and your-" He eyed Garen, making it perfectly clear that there's nothing he'd like more than to be one of those aggressors, "friends, and to ensure you reach the tyrant safely." He spat out the last word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth, but his military upbringing and his respect for the Du Coteau family led him to the conclusion that it might be best to follow Talon's orders, no matter how much they rankled him.

Katarina grinned in self satisfaction, as if she had known this was going to happen and was happy to have her suspicion confirmed, maybe she did know, maybe she knew Talon well enough to guess what he'd think. "Thank you Sergeant, that would be excellent, have two of your men get crossbows and stand in the back of the cart, the rest of you can form a cordon around us, that should be an adequate deterrent to any citizens don't you think?"

Despite himself, the soldier was already nodding along with the champions orders, her tactical use of his men effectively what he would have suggested anyway. But then again, everyone knew Katarina was far from just a pretty face. "Sounds like a plan Ma'am, though might I suggest we put a hooded cloak on the vanguard so as to grab less attention." He said this nodding to one of his men, who reproachfully tore off his cloak and tossed it to him, the Sergeant caught it and offered it to Katarina.

"Oh good idea Sergeant, I hadn't thought of that." Without looking back she handed it to Garen, who was intelligent enough to keep quiet through the exchange lest he evoke more hostility from the soldiers. Wordlessly he slipped the cord around his shoulders and pulled the hood of the cape up over his head. "So, shall we?" Voiced Katarina, looking from the captain to his men. He nodded and brusquely shouted orders to his men. In moments the group were moving through the raised portcullis of the checkpoint, ten soldiers surrounding their small cart and another two standing in the back section, with that they were ready to keep moving and despite herself, Quinn let out a sigh of relief. Not only had they survived the checkpoint but they'd come out of it with an honour guard, it looked like they would reach the fort and the safety of Swain's power after all.

Setting off once more the cart and its honour guard made good time, passing through streets that emptied as they approached, the sight of the soldiers enough to dissuade civilians from sticking around and causing trouble. They reached the fort in what seemed to Quinn, a blink of an eye, passing through its tall gates she felt a weight fall off her, as salvation was in sight. Swain, was in sight. The Tyrant stood at the tall doors into the fort proper, watching them wordlessly as they approached, he limped his way down the steps to meet them as they pulled up before them, the Tyrant had both birds, Beatrice and Valor seated upon the roost atop one shoulder, with the other arm he offered a hand to help Quinn down from the cart.

"Hello you three, or should I say. Welcome home."

Swain's word caused a lump of emotion Quinn had forced down throughout the journey to suddenly surface, but she could barely see the tyrant at this moment. All she could see was the being that made any place home to her. The bird roosting on his shoulder, she wordlessly took Swain's hand and let him help her down before Valor swamped her, not as energetically as he had a scant week ago, now it was the embrace of a brother who could feel his sisters pain. The embrace of a loved one doing all they can to comfort, Quinn let Valor hold onto one wrist as she wrapped the free arm around him, the bird wrapping his large wings about her head. Quinn buried her head in the eagles downy chest, tears finally resurfacing in full and quickly soaking into the soft blue mass. No one said a word to her for a moment, understanding the two truly needed that moment alone. The others stood, waiting for the pair in understanding and polite silence as Quinn finally let out all her pent up emotion into the birds chest.

"Valor... Dad's dead..." Quinn sobbed out, her eyes gummy as she finally pulled back to look up at her closest friend, the only person who she knew she could always, always trust. That made Valor's eyes slam open to their fullest, and the bird momentarily pulled back to stare out her incredulously for a moment before tilting his head back and letting out a sorrowful shriek. Quinn felt a soft hand land on her shoulder and turned back to see Garen staring down at her sympathetically.

"He died to save us Quinn... I doubt a soldier could ask for a greater death."

Quinn nodded slowly, summoning up a brave face and giving Garen a weak smile. He smiled back and patted her on the shoulder. "Come on Quinn, let's go inside, you could use some sleep I think." Quinn nodded again and turned to face Swain, who had watched it all with a surprisingly soft expression for the usually harsh and uncompromising Tyrant. He beckoned all of them on and led the way into the fort.

"Quinn, you will continue using my guest room as you had before you left until we sort out a more permanent home for you and Valor. Katarina, I expect you have your own plans as to where you'll be _keeping_ Garen." The Tyrant gave Katarina an almost undetectable smile, which caused the faintest of blushes to appear on her cheeks.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, though for now, you will all stay at the fort, tonight we will be announcing Quinn and Garen's arrival into our city and their official induction as citizens. You are both all right with that, correct?" Quinn smiled weakly and nodded with barely a moment's hesitation, actually glad to have the Tyrants commanding presence around. Especially since he was letting her stay close to where Valor would be living for a long time as he raised his children. Garen however took a good while more to nod

"Not the easiest thing to do, but yes Swain. It's not as if I have many other options now." The once Vanguard offered Swain a hand as he said this and the crippled tyrant shook it firmly.

"No, after this little outburst from your prince it does not seem you do, and Garen?"

"Yes Swain?" Asked Garen, raising an eyebrow.

"A sir wouldn't kill you." Despite themselves, Quinn and Katarina were so taken aback they both burst out laughing, Quinn's sorrow momentarily forgotten as even Valor let out a small series of caaw's in a birds approximation of a chuckle. The two men stared incredulously at them for a moment before shaking their heads. "Katarina, you may spend the time doing what you like with Garen until the feast, but do not leave the fort." Katarina lit up with a smile, grabbing Garen's hand.

"Thank you sir!" She called as her much larger fiance was practically dragged along beside her as Katarina charged off somewhere, Swain let out a faint, rumbling chuckle and turned back to Quinn.

"And you should take Garen's suggestion and sleep until the feast, it will do you a world of good." The Tyrant managed a brief smile as he said that, though Quinn guessed it was largely for her benefit, which, being totally honest. Left her rather touched that he'd even bother. She gave him a weak smile in return and nodded. "I'm sure you can find your own way to my home. There are things I must get done before the feast."

Quinn's smile broadened faintly, "Thank you sir... For... For everything." Summing up her courage and doing something likely no one other than Beatrice had done in decades, Quinn momentarily wrapped her arms around the tall man's chest, what truly shocked her was that he returned the gesture, the arm not holding his cane wrapping about her shoulders for a moment.

"You are welcome Quinn. Now go get some sleep." Quinn nodded and released him from her embrace, stepping away and turning to leave, heading the for the staircase to his quarters. "Oh, and Quinn?" She stopped in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder.

"Yes sir?"

"You can just call me Jericho." With that, Jericho Swain limped his way out of the foyer to pursue whatever tasks and underlings he had on his mind, Quinn felt the smile well and truly take over her lips as she too turned her back and finally made her way up the winding staircase, into his quarters and then his guestroom. As she collapsed onto the bed, Valor fluttered down off her shoulder, nestling down beside the young girl, allowing her to stroke a hand through his feathers as he wrapped a wing over her neck. Lying together as they had done so for so many years, Quinn felt a fount of peace wash over, so very glad to have Valor here with her.

"I love you Valor..." She smiled, her eyes already beginning to drift closed as she laid a kiss on the birds forehead, the bird coo'd back a reply, and with that the two drifted off into slumber together.

A scant few hours later, far too few for Quinn's liking she was awoken by a sharp rapping on the chambers wooden door. As she and Valor blearily raised their heads in unison, Swain's maid, a woman who matched her ward to a T poked her head in, she stared at Valor for a moment in disapproval, disliking having the bird on the nice clean , and more importantly untorn sheets. But that scalding look passed as quickly as it had came and her eyes twitched to Quinn. "The feast is beginning in an hour, child, you cannot simply wear that guard uniform as you did last time. The dress in the cupboard, put it on, then come to the bathroom." With that, she pulled her head back out through the door as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the still half asleep pair bewildered as they struggled off the bed. Valor flopped inelegantly onto the floor with a squawk as Quinn rose from the bed a bit more gracefully, doddering over to her cupboard and pulling it open.

There was the dress, amidst the guard uniforms and fluffy bathrobe. She vaguely remembered it from the first time she had looked in the cupboard, but she hadn't really had a good look at it that first time. Now, as she pulled it out of the cupboard, she saw it really was a thing of beauty. A bright icy blue at the breasts, the shoulder-less dress slowly darkened as it swept down towards the hem, until it was a blue so dark as to be almost black, amidst the darkest blue were tiny sparkling gems, as if to simulate stars. Quinn had an odd suspicion that this had belonged to the Tyrants maid when she was young.

Throwing off the sleeveless jerkin and tight leggings of the guard she eagerly pulled on the dress, closing the cupboard so at to make use of the mirror on its front the scouts girly side surfaced as she twirled around in front of it, letting out a pleased giggle. Valor watched from the floor, still as bewildered as he had been the moment he had awoken. But of course, birds knew little of fashion, however much they may influence it.

"Valor, you'll just be bored waiting around here for me to get ready. Why don't you go see if you can find Beatrice?" Quinn asked her companion as she stepped to the door, smiling luxuriantly at her friend. Valor paused to consider it for a moment before quickly hopping to the rooms small window and falling out of the open portal, Quinn smiled a moment after her friend as he flew away before sliding out the bedroom door. Hurrying along she swiftly made her way to the bathroom, her bare feet making nary a noise on the carpets, but still the maid knew she was there before she even stepped into view of the doorway.

"Come in, Quinn. Your hair looks as if that bird uses it as a spare nest. I will fix it before you go to the feast." Came the paradoxical commanding voice of Swain's servant. Meekly Quinn stepped in to find the Maid standing beside the sink, a chair set beside her. Quinn obediently sat down in the chair without being heeded to and the Maid stepped behind her, picking up a comb from the table she quickly set to work. Quince winced and had to suppress several yelps as the Maid tugged and played with her unruly brown hair, but the woman seemed to know what she was doing. Once she had finally tugged on Quinn's hair so as to allow it to be worked on in the first place she began running her fingers through it, getting Quinn's hair to fall straight down her back. Apart from a pair of bangs that would not seem to stay in place, with a frustrated tut the Maid turned away from her project for a moment and busied herself with her own hair, pulling loose a hair pin her own jet-black locks fell down about her severe features as she affixed the pin into Quinn's hair. She let one bang hang wear it was, falling just over Quinn's right eye while, as Quinn saw, turning to look in the mirror; the other was tucked behind her ear, kept in place by the hairpin which she could now see was made to look like a small ravens feather. She smiled, a faint blush emerging on her cheeks when she took note of just how good a job the maid had done with her hair.

Quinn straightened herself up, turning to face the Maid she gave her an ecstatic grin, "Oh thank you, I look amazing!" The young girls manic glee was returned with a much tighter lipped smile as the mature woman nodded faintly.

"Indeed you do, now hurry along. You only have a few minutes until the feast begins, Lord Swain would be very disappointed if you were late."

Quinn's eyes widened and with a final thank you thrown behind her, the now ex-Demacian hurried out of the bathroom, the speed with which she flew down the steps from the Tyrant's quarters putting Valor to shame. The Maid watched after her a moment before slowly removing a locket from beneath her high collared grey dress, she flicked it open and smiled wearily down at the picture within, that of a young Noxian couple holding a little girl between them, only a year or two of age. Quietly she whispered to herself.

"She's so much like what we'd hoped she'd have turned out like, isn't she, Jericho?"


	19. Chapter 19

(Hey guys, Alma here. I know this one's a little short but it felt right to end the chapter here. There's one more to go and then the epilogue, sorry for keeping you all waiting so long. I promise I won't with the next 2 and when I start the prologue story.)

**_SEVENTEEN_**

**_WINGS OF THE TYRANT_**

Stepping down into the feasting hall, Quinn now understood why it was the Maid insisted she looked her absolute best before joining the celebrations. The dinner she had been here for last time she had been in Noxus, a time that now seemed an eternity away had nothing in comparison to this. This was a true celebration, the tables had been moved into a rectangle, leaving an area in centre free, as far as she could surmise from the set of instruments put their in advance in the corner of the square, it would be for a dance later on. Now that was something she had never expected from a Noxian feast, looking about and seeing how everyone was dressed this seemed more a ball than a feast. Every Noxian who had been invited had dressed in their very best. Even though Swain had only had the day to organise it, he had done so with all the speed Quinn would expect from the genius tyrant.

A particular couple caught her eye as she stepped through the crowds to find her seat, Garen and Katarina, the Noxian dressed in a tight fitting black evening dress with a split on one side to reveal plenty of leg, the Demacian in an ill fitting black suit with dull red tinted metal buttons, Quinn had a feeling he'd borrowed it from someone, it was close to his size, but the legs were far too tight. The pair were currently finding their own way to their seats, Garen's arm around Kat's shoulders and the deadly blades head gently rested against her lovers shoulder. Quinn couldn't help but let a smile reach her face at the sight as she turned her attention back to finding a free seat for herself. Though that matter was settled quickly when a hand landed on her shoulder. "Good evening Quinn." Came the guttural tones of her friend the Tyrant, she looked up and back with a smile.

"Hello Jericho, what do you think?" She grinned as she stepped back from him and gave a twirl in her new dress, making the stars of the hem seem to shoot across it's near black cloth. The tyrant himself was dressed in his usual dark red robes of office with a black feather cape rolling down off his unarmoured shoulders, though of course he still wore his signature sash over his features, he gave a quiet, almost sardonic applause to the young woman's pirouette.

"Very beautiful Quinn, it suits you. Come now, we need to sit down." Surprising her a little, Swain took her hand gently, leading her along the outer rectangle of tables to the far back, at almost the perfect centre so as to be facing the door. Of course this would be the Tyrant's seat at the 'head' of the feast, and it seemed Quinn was his guest of honour tonight.

As Quinn finally got her seat, sagging down into its plush body, the feast began in full, a good few dozen servants swept out from the entryway, plates held high in their right hands as they moved with almost military precision along the empty inner side of the tables, each guest served within the space of two minutes. Quinn, Swain and the people beside them were the first to receive their meals as the servants hit the back table and spread out and back like a wave. Garen and Katarina had joined them at the end table and Quinn was glad to have Kat there, always nice to have another girl around to talk to. But as her meal was placed down for her, she knew she wouldn't be talking too much for at least half an hour.

It looked delicious, a huge steak dominated the plate, done medium rare with what looked like a peppercorn sauce drizzled over it, with fresh carrot, mashed potatoes and a glass of wine placed down beside it almost immediately after the plate had found its way before her. The smell of the meat filled the room as every other guest received the same, Quinn could feel her mouth watering at the sight and the smell, it was rare she had food of this calibre. She could only imagine how Valor would react when presented with a meal like this, the bird would probably be drooling at the mouth.

But Valor wasn't at the feast. After Quinn had left him behind, the Demacian eagle had gone looking for his beloved mate, flitting out the high placed window on the fort from Quinn's bedroom he found himself sailing high above Noxus, literal eagle eyes searching for his mate below as his wings took him further up. There was no sign of her on the roof's of the city, so the most likely place for her, their nest up on the roof.

Fluttering down onto the grassy floor of Swain's roof garden, Valor began hopping across it eyes cast up to the branches of the tree's to watch for her. He never caught sight of her, but that was because she was currently sleeping on the grass in front of him, and over her Valor went, his thin legs caught on her side and he went tumbling over her. A squawk of surprise burst from his beak as he landed face first into the dirt. Beatrice, in her usual sedate fashion merely raised her head slowly blinking her eyes, her head cocked gently to the side as she tried to suppress the equivalent of a laugh, Valor found it distinctly less amusing and stood back up, fluffing out his chest and shaking his head in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. He didn't do so well.

After she'd regained her own wits, choking down her amusement, Beatrice stood up and gave Valor a nuzzle. Words no human could even sense let alone understand passed between the two as they stood cheek to cheek, love pronounced and worries supplanted as they stood like that for a good time before hopping together to the edge of the Tyrant's roof garden, diving off together they began to make their way over the city to the forests, let the human's have their feast, the birds would have their own tonight.

Mopping up the last of the sauce on her plate with a hunk of bread she eagerly gulped it down, having relished each and every bite of the exquisite meal, though now she felt so full she thought it unlikely she'd be able to manage desert.

Thankfully it seemed she'd receive some respite before the next course, as couples began getting up from their seats, walking hand in hand through the gaps in tables to the centre square. It was time for the dance. She saw Garen and Katarina pass her, Garen looked to be suppressing the urge to run as fast as he could: with his massive, muscular frame he was hardly well suited for the dance floor, especially if Katarina expected him to make any particular grand or sweeping moves - he'd likely split his pants in two and whoever had leant them to him would be a long, long way from pleased with him. But Katarina's grip was that of death itself and the Demacian champion was dragged along helplessly. Quinn couldn't help but chuckle a little, giving Garen a grin and a cheerful wave goodbye as he looked to her for support, his face remarkably like that of a frightened puppy.

Swain was calmly enjoying a glass of wine, not only without a partner but without two good legs to stand on, Quinn knew there was no chance of the Tyrant joining in the dance, but she herself had n one to go with either. So she settled in beside him to watch, scanning the tables for other people who hadn't taken to the floor as she idly sipped at her own wine, yet another luxury she wouldn't be allowed in Demacia, the drinking age was lower here apparently. Her eyes fell on Darius, sitting alone further along the table from her. Other than his brother and the Tyrant himself, the Hand of Noxus didn't seem to have all too many friends. His own eyes following his brother as the braggart led a woman vapid enough to have a crush on him to the dance floor, more than anything it looked like the Hand of Noxus felt sorry for the woman. Quinn couldn't blame him after her experience with his brother. Darius was dressed in a white suit, a surprising departure from the black and red attire of the majority of tonight's feasters, a black waist coat beneath it, Quinn had to admit the man looked really quite handsome though a thought nagged at her, he looked just like someone she'd met at a ball in Demacia. As the man turned his head, Quinn made the connection, they even shared the slash of white on one side of their hair. Darius looked just like the incredibly charismatic inventor of Piltover, Jayce. She had to wonder if anyone had pointed out the resemblance to either of them before, she doubted either would appreciate it.

As the first song came to an end, Quinn had grown bored of simply watching the dancers and made up her mind, getting to her feet and releasing her by now empty wine glass, the girl padded to Darius, who looked to be as bored as she felt, with confidence gifted only by the sweet wine she'd just had the Demacian extended one hand, palm up to Darius, catching his eye just now causing the Hand of Noxus to stare up at her questioningly.

"Care to dance Darius? I still haven't thanked you for rescuing me from your brother. Well... Thanked you as myself." She asked with a grin, just now realising that the last time they'd spoken she had been Quinzel, the lord Tyrant's apprentice and personal guard. That seemed a lifetime ago now.

Darius paused a moment, taken aback by the request before a gentle smile slid to his lips, nodding and taking her hand in his as he stood, "I'd like nothing more, Quinn." He answered, voice like a stone golem with a cold. Together they made their way to the dance floor as the second song begun in earnest.

It was a slow, relaxed song and Quinn was surprised to find herself being competently led in a slow waltz, she had been taught to dance by her teacher at school, such courtly skills being considered of paramount importance in Demacian culture, she hadn't expected the champion of a militaristic, dour nation like Noxus to be able to dance. She gladly let him lead, however her ever-present curiosity led her eyes to Garen and Katarina as the two pairs moved past one another. Quinn let out a giggle as she saw that Garen was doing so poorly Katarina had decided to lead instead, the Demacian champion may move gracefully on the battlefield but here he had two left feet. Funny how the contrast showed between the exiled champion of Demacia, a city that prided itself on its arts and nobility and the champion of Noxus, a city of strength, cunning and under handed actions. You'd have thought the Demacian would be the one capable in dancing, and Quinn had thought so to up until now.

She looked away from Garen and Katarina after Katarina sent a playful wink her way before dragging Garen on through the twirling crowds, back to her dance partner who had been watching them to, a broad teasing grin on his face as he watched the bumbling Vanguard swept away. "I'd almost feel sorry for him if I wasn't still shocked that Katarina would fall for someone like him." He joked to Quinn as they continued their own dance, far more easily than the blade and vanguard.

Quinn couldn't suppress a bit of teasing herself and replied, "jealous are we?" She sent a wink with her words and the giant laughed a little.

"No... No... Okay, a bit."

"Hah! Well I can't really blame you, I'd be a bit jealous to if I were a man." They exchanged a friendly grin, continuing the rest of the dance in silence until the song came to an end. Darius received a kiss on the cheek for dancing with her before Quinn made her way, blushing, back to Swain's side. The rest of the feast passed in a blur and by the time the final meal was done, Quinn felt like she should be as fat as Gragas and three times as heavy, after she climbed the stairs, trailing behind the Tyrant for once she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

Time flew like an arrow after the ball, Quinn and Garen both found their own routines in this new city, both learning their way around the twisting roads and alleys of Noxus as it grew accustomed to them in turn. Quinn was quite comfortable living in Swain's guest room and the Tyrant didn't mind having her there either. After all it was only through his quarters she could reach the rooftop garden and the tactician knew putting any kind of barrier between Valor and Quinn could only end poorly.

In the garden was where Quinn spent most her evenings, lying on the grass or in a tree, birds by her side as she watched the starry night sky, moon seeming to fly by as morning approached, more comfortable under an open sky than cooped up in the guest room, however comfortable it might be. Though in the early hours she would concede to her bodies badgering and retire to the comfort of her bed.

She and Garen saw each other often, the two Demacian's both still needing a bit of home-grown company in their new city, one which up until very recently had been their sworn enemy. The two would find themselves captured and dragged about the city every few days by Katarina, Garen's fiance eager to show them the sights.

While the Demacian's found themselves quickly adapting to Noxus, it took Noxus a good deal longer to grow accustomed to them. Walking alone Quinn would have her boots covered in the spit of soldiers and widows by the time she reached the castle, and Swain warned her not to go out alone at night, well at least alone and unarmed, the Tyrant knew well Quinn could handle most that the city would throw at her with ease. But eventually, even the citizens of Noxus grew used to her as she became a common sight amongst the pedestrian's.

Quinn met up with Darius a few times, finding a friend in the stolid, powerful man, and it seemed she wasn't the only one who had found a friend in him. Often she would run into him and Garen in the courtyard of the keep, sparring, training or merely swapping tales. The two champions had a great deal in common and honestly Quinn wasn't too surprised, she had more experience with Noxus than almost any other Demacian and in the end she had come to realise Noxian's weren't really that different from Demacian's, in fact if anything they had a head up over them on one thing. You'd never catch any Noxian bending his knee to a King or Prince. Quinn and Katarina had an excellent time one day when they found Garen attempting to teach his Noxian counterpart how to pull off his signature spinning attack. The stumbles, collisions and long minutes spent sitting trying to stop the world turning left the two girls in tears before Darius finally managed it with some degree of competence.

However even as the two found their place in the city, they were still without a role, a purpose. But one was being crafted for them, Swain promised them that much, and his frequent meetings with Darius and other advisors only served to substantiate that claim. Finally, after nearly two weeks of little but relaxation for the two, their time came and Swain told them both that tomorrow they would truly become people of Noxus. Quinn didn't sleep easy that night, her overactive imagination tossing about a thousand possibilities as to what he could mean, but all too soon she found out herself, as the maid woke her well before the sun had risen.

The time had come for Quinn to truly leave Demacia behind...

Quinn was awoken by a gentle hand laid upon her shoulder, then when that failed to rouse the young woman, a slightly less gentle shaking. Her eyes opened blearily as she waved her hands about herself randomly, attempting to ward away the offending appendage. The Maid's voice however, was a tad more difficult to ignore.

"Get up Quinn, we have to get you ready."

Quinn stared blearily up at her, her mind fogged and thoughts in an early morning turmoil as she tried to work out what it could be she should be ready for.

"Ready for what?" She asked, eventually giving up on the fruitless quest inside her own head.

"It is time for you to truly join the ranks of the Noxian elite. So get up and go take a bath, what have I told you about letting that eagle use your head as a nest?" That was about as close the Maid ever came to making a joke, and though her tone never changed much from that same stern commanding tone she shared with Swain Quinn had learned to recognise when the Maid was actually cross from when she just sounded it.

Quinn cracked a smile, suppressing a yawn as she rolled from bed, gratefully donning the bathrobe the Maid offered over her underwear before doddering off through the doorway to the bathroom, the Maid's voice following her.

"Once you've cleaned yourself, call me in so we can start on your hair." Quinn mumbled an acknowledgement, reaching the bathroom and clicking it closed behind her.

The hot water did a great deal to help wake her, and the girl let out a content sigh as it washed away her drowsiness. She sunk her head down under, getting her shoulder length hair soaked. Shoulder length, when she left for the mission that started this all she had a much more boyish haircut, she'd never really taken note of how much it had grew over time. Then emerged after a luxurious moment of allowing the water to embrace her.

"You can come in now." She called out to the door, wiping the water away from her eyes.

The Maid entered a moment later, nodding to her before walking around the back of the bathtub, a slightly coppery scented shampoo in one hand, she ran it through Quinn's hair as she worked on styling it. Using the same black feathered hairpin from last time to keep a good portion of the left side of Quinn's fringe down over her face, the rest of her hair guided down her back, the shampoo leaving a faint red stain in it, making it seem far more chestnut than her usual dark brown. She worked it in for a time longer in silence before finishing, standing and offering Quinn a towel as the girl got out.

"I hope you understand how important today is Quinn?"

Quinn nodded vaguely, accepting the soft red towel and beginning to dry herself off as the Maid went to the basin and gathered her clothing for the day.

"You and Garen are to take your place alongside Katarina, Darius and the rest of the Noxian champions. Today, you will follow Jericho's... Swain's instructions to the letter, do not hesitate. I know you have become closer to him than most since coming here, but he is still your commander, and disobedience in the slightest will not be accepted right now, especially as you and Garen still have much trust to gain amongst the nobility and generals of Noxus."

Quinn paused a moment at the Maid using the Tyrant's given name, and how she hesitated before correcting herself. She got the sense the Maid had been serving Jericho for a long time, it was understandable that a certain familiarity would blossom between the two, so Quinn chose not to question it.

"I understand, but uh... Can I ask you something before I go?" She asked timidly, accepting the clothes as the Maid handed them to her, beginning to get dressed. Today she'd be wearing loose black dress pants, almost manly in their design, a sleeveless dull red shirt over them and tight leather combat boots beneath, an odd combination, that seemed almost as if something was missing from it..

The Maid nodded as Quinn buttoned up her shirt. "I will answer as much as I am able, yes. Ask away."

"I was wondering... Could you tell me your name? I never actually caught it." Quinn had gotten so used to this woman's presence in her life at her new home in Swain's quarters, yet she'd never heard her name mentioned, she was simply: the Maid.

The maid's features slowly eased from their constant tight lipped state into a far softer smile, and after a moment of watching Quinn, the look oddly like the one she'd receive from Beatrice, a mix of gentle calm and an avian curiosity.

"Annetta, Quinn, you can call me Annetta."

Quinn smiled back, warming to the oft cold woman even further than she had already now that she had a name for her.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Annetta."

Annetta chuckled faintly, turning now that Quinn had dressed and opening the door. "Come, you should have some breakfast before you leave. This is going to be a trying day and not one I would attempt on an empty stomach."

After a nicely heavy breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast down in the banquet hall, at this hour almost empty apart from a few tired guardsmen and night cooks enjoying a meal for themselves before they retired to make way for the next shift, Quinn had gotten her breakfast by asking one of them, a huge man wearing a hat that noted him out as the head chef, and he had happily rumbled off to go cook her some breakfast. She'd scarfed the meal down hungrily, downing it with a glass of water before heading off to find her closest companion up on the roof. Valor.

Returning to Swain's quarters, Quinn found them dead silent, the Tyrant had left even earlier than her and the Maid was in her room, making her bed quickly before she guided Quinn to the ceremony. She enjoyed the moment of silence as her feet padded across the carpet, heading upstairs to the rooftop garden.

The soft chirp of crickets reached her ears as she entered the little glade, reminding her of her usual home out in the woods, the wilderness was always where she felt most at peace. But this place, Noxus, Noxus had turned out to be a far better home for her than she would have ever imagined.

Walking through the trees, she found her beloved bird fast asleep in his nest, head tucked down into his side under a wing. Beatrice had left with Swain already it looked like, as the eagle was alone in the nest apart from the eggs. Quinn reached up to the low hanging branch, trapping Valor on the head a few times.

He raised his head, grabbing her finger in his beak gently as he blearily looked down at her. Letting out a caw as he realised the finger was not a very rude worm. He released it, flopping down from the nest into Quinn's other arm. She caught the eagle with a laugh, knee's bending slightly at his sudden weight before he stood up properly on her wrist, hand coming to gently scratch under his chin.

"Good morning to you to sleepy head. Come on, we got a busy day ahead of us."

The bird let out an annoyed caw, annoyed at being woken at such a preposterous hour, but begrudgingly shook his head back and forth rapidly to help wake himself before flapping up onto her shoulder, taking to preening his feathers.

"Today's the day Noxus really becomes our home." Murmured Quinn to her closest friend as they walked back down to find the Maid, the sun would be rising soon, it was time to leave.

Led by Annetta, Quinn and Valor arrived at a large room she'd never seen in her time exploring the keep. A vaulted ceiling, podium at the back of the room with a stained glass window portraying a Noxian blade raised high over a fallen Demacian behind it. Pews with plush red seating were arrayed in a half circle around the podium, and the circle of alabaster stone before it. Red banners with the symbol of Noxus upon them descended from the ceiling, hiding the sides of the room from view. For now the room was mostly empty, apart from Swain, who stood silently behind the podium in his full regalia, crested helmet and all, Darius and his brother, who were seated side by side, Katarina, who like Swain was dressed in her outfit of high command, and a soldier of the Noxian army, a general if the medals did not lie. Even now, as close as she had become to the Tyrant, he still cut a rather threatening image, especially with the apparent enchantment of his helmet which caused his eyes to glow an ominous green. Beatrice sat upon his shoulder, watching her beloved and his companion as they entered. Annetta guided them behind the banners along the far wall, leaving the pair there. As Quinn looked about, she noticed Garen standing beside her, dressed in similar dress pants to herself, tucked into a buccaneers black boots. He wore a black tunic, matte grey steel armour on his chest and shoulders and a red scarf coiled around his neck. The tall Vanguard gave Quinn a smile.

"I'm a bit nervous..." She said, looking up at her fellow Demacian. He shook his head, taking her hand in his.

"We'll be fine Quinn. I know neither of us ever expected life to lead us here, but here is where it's led us, and all we can do is keep going." He said confidently, with all the self-assuredness of a sage.

"Hmn... That... Thanks Garen." She gave her friend a short hug, taking solace in his embrace as he returned it. Both releasing the hug as they heard the door open once more. Quinn peeked out from behind the curtain, watching as more soldiers she did not know step into the room, but each one was dressed in their parade uniforms, black long coats with dull red detailing, silver buttons on their shoulders, cuffs and sealing their coats closed up the middle, there were five in all, their medals and rank pins on their collars marking them out two as generals, the others colonel's. They took their seats. After them three more entered the room to complete its audience. The first was Katarina's cursed sister, Cassiopea, the other-worldly snake woman gliding in through the door, her long tail seeming to never end as it winded in through the door after her. She rested herself down on her coiled tail behind Katarina, the two sisters quietly talking to one another as Talon wordlessly joined them, the assassin as usual seeming to simply appear where he was needed. After he had made his arrival, the crowd fell silent, looking to Swain at the podium as he cleared his throat, signalling that the proceedings were now beginning.

"Today, we have three new soldiers to add to the might of Noxus, soldiers who saw the weakness of Demacia, the flawed hypocritical nature of its rulers and came to us, seeking a city of true strength, and a ruler who took his place through his own accomplishments, not the blood his father gave him." Spoke Swain, his guttural tones echoing about the room powerfully. The crowd of soldiers and champions let out a few cheers of approval, hands smacking together. To the surprise of no-one, Katarina was the loudest.

"The first. Garen Crownguard, step into the circle." Commanded Swain, Garen shot Quinn a look that said 'wish me luck' and stepped out from behind the curtain, this time Katarina was the only one clapping, and even she fell awkwardly silent, many of the soldiers here had lost good men, good friends, to the vanguard and his troops. The bad blood wouldn't disappear that easily, but hopefully in time it would wash off. Garen walked into the circle of light stone, standing facing Swain. Even at the raised podium Swain was only slightly above head level with the huge warrior. Swain seemed to eye him over for a moment before speaking.

"Garen Crownguard, how ironic that name seems now, with the crown throwing its own guard to the dogs. Crownguard, do you swear to follow my orders? To do what is best for the people of Noxus, to aid in all our goals, our efforts?" As Swain spoke Darius stood from his seat beside his brother, his axe on his back.

"I swear it sir."

Darius stepped up beside him, taking the blade off his back and holding it in one hand, head up.

"Do you accept your new role, the second hand of Noxus? Will you serve alongside Darius's, protect him as he protects you in the field of battle?" This seemed to take Garen back slightly, surprised at what his new position would be, his head turned to Darius, his new comrade in arms giving him a grim smile.

"I swear it sir." Garen repeated.

"Darius?" Swain turned to face his right hand man, looking to see if he to accepted his new brother.

"I swear it-" as Darius said that, he ran his axe across the palm of his hand, cutting open a freely bleeding wound he then turned the blade towards Garen, offering for him to do the same "-in blood."

Garen hesitated barely an instant before he copied Darius's action, slicing his own hand open. The two clasped hands, looking into one another's eyes for a moment, a small smile on both the men's lips. To Quinn it seemed like Garen couldn't have asked for a better partner on the field. The only one she could think of is Katarina, and that was for a different reason all together.

"Then I now pronounce you Garen Noxguard, Hand of Noxus." Announced Swain with a certain amount of ceremony, and a bit more pride, who could blame him knowing he now had his greatest enemies greatest warrior in his service. A servant stepped from behind a banner, holding a black leather sheathed sword, they approached Garen and offered the blade to him, silently he drew it inspecting the blade with a critical eye. It was crafted much like Darius's axe, an efficient, brutal weapon, dull grey steel with a cross guard formed of a much darker steel wrapped around a ruby in a spiral, along the blade on one side was a saw toothed serration, truly a Noxian weapon. Garen nodded approvingly, re-sheathing it and buckling it to his waist.

"Noxguard, sit with your fellow hand so we can proceed." Intoned Swain, faintly glowing eyes drifting from Garen back to the banner Quinn and Valor waited behind.

Garen nodded, moving to sit beside Darius, as he did he reached over the hand of Noxus to offer a polite handshake to Draven, the executioner scoffed, ignoring it with a foul smirk. Garen receded the hand.

"Quinn and Valor Harlington, step into the circle." Commanded Swain, gaze fixed on the banner currently concealing them. Quinn gulped down that last bit of trepidation festering in her throat, quickly looked over Valor to check he had no feathers out of place before stepping from the curtain. There was a polite clapping from the crowd, mostly Katarina, Garen and Darius but it quieted quickly, Draven meanwhile was shooting her a look that made it clear the bad blood he had for her would never wash away until his hands were awash with her blood. Quinn ignored the death glare, walking proudly to the circle, Valor sitting on her shoulder, his head held high. Swain looked down at them for a time longer than he had with Garen, so much so that Quinn felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach, resurging once more.

"Valor, if not for you and Beatrice, Noxus would have never gained these new champions, and for that you have my congratulations." Said Swain, Beatrice's eyes locked upon Valor's, the eagle fluffed his wings out boisterously, letting out a caw of approval. Swain's eyes turned to Quinn in full.

"Quinn and Valor Harlington, once the wing's of Demacia, you have now taken flight to my great city to escape unjust execution from a paranoid crown."

Quinn stayed silent, she got the sense this introduction was for ceremonies sake than anything else.

"Do you swear to serve my every command? To never falter in battle or in sabotage? To gather information for Noxus and to eliminate our enemies from the shadows?"

Quinn hesitated much longer than Garen had, only breaking from her fearful ruminations when Valor lightly flicked her ear with a wing."

"I swear it sir." She said, emulating the new hand.

"Do you accept your roles as operatives of the Tyrant, as personal servants to me, to venture deep behind enemy lines on missions of my choosing?"

"I swear it sir."

"Then, Quinn and Valor Harlington." the same servant from earlier walked from behind a banner once more as Swain, this time bearing a coat and a short crossbow, much like her old one, though without the ostentatious golden eagle, it was smaller, a matte grey like Garen's sword, a metal that wouldn't catch the light. Quinn accepted the equipment, sliding the crossbow onto her arm and donning the coat. It was a variation of the tyrant guard uniform she had used to sneak in, black with a golden lining, a deep hood pulled up to shroud her face, this new garment differed in that it was plated along the back in an emulation of feathers, split down the middle to form wings, each feather slowly faded from black to a blood red at its tip.

"I now pronounce you the wings of the Tyrant."


	20. Epilogue

**_EPILOGUE_**

**_NEW LIFE IN A NEW WORLD_**

Quinn was sitting by herself in the sitting room of the Tyrant's quarters, reading through some old books on Noxian tactics he had told her look through, it was hardly the most exciting way to spend the day. But with annotations from the grand tactician himself, the tomes were certainly very insightful. She had been sitting here for most of the morning however and her behind was growing sore and her mind was growing heavy. She closed the book, one of Valor's shed feathers serving as a bookmark as she stood up and stretched herself out before heading towards the door.

Only to nearly run headfirst into Jericho as he came around the corner, the Tyrant neatly sidestepping her.

"Oh! Sorry Jericho." She exclaimed, knowing if she had ran into him the Tyrant likely would have lost his balance and fell with his crippled leg. She noticed something seemed a little different about her friend, it took her a moment before she realised what it was, today he did not wear anything to cover his face, and even more strangely than that he was smiling. That gave her pause, for it was such a rare sight. "What's going on? You seem really happy..."

"Come up to the garden Quinn. The eggs are hatching." Those words sent Quinn's heart soaring straight into her throat. In all that had happened it had slipped her mind that the chicks would be hatching soon.

Outdistancing Swain by a mile, Quinn vaulted up the steps to the rooftop garden, not wasting a moment as she gleefully clambered up to a branch side on to the one the nest lay on. Valor and Beatrice looked up at her as she arrived, before both new parents eyes fell back to nest between them, one standing on either side. Valor spent a moment longer looking at Quinn and she had to smile, knowing her bird was far more nervous than they had been when they attained their rank within Noxus. She reached over and stroked her hand from the top of his head down his spine.

"You'll be a wonderful father Valor, don't worry." She promised in a soothing tone.

Valor accepted the kind words gratefully, his wing stroking against Quinn's hand as she retracted it. Quinn wasn't just a comrade in arms to Valor, she had been with him since he'd hatched, she'd raised him, fought alongside him, played with him and saved his life as many times as he had hers. To Valor, Quinn was a loving mother and a perfect sister all rolled into one, and to the eagle her words meant more than his voiceless affection could ever tell. So after his eyes lingered on hers a moment longer they went back to his nest's, the egg's showing their first cracks along their top's.

Swain rejoined the group, the branch low enough that the tall man could still see into the nest from his position on the ground. Quinn looked to him for a moment, her gaze quickly gravitating back to the nest as all of them waited with baited breath. There were four eggs in total, and two already showed a great many cracks, Quinn's well trained ears could hear quiet cheeping...

The first broke open, a little head emerging, then the second, both cheeping frantically. The third and fourth took a time longer, in fact it looked like they might not hatch at all, then Beatrice took it upon herself, the new mother hopping forwards and sticking the front talon of her right foot through both shells, with that added crack the two chicks broke through with ease, joining their siblings in cheeping frantically as they looked about at their new family. With the full clutch hatched all four of the onlookers, man and avian alike let out a sigh of relief, only now truly taking in the appearance of the newborns.

The chicks were a dark blue, far darker than Valor but still quite a ways from the pure midnight black of their mother, settling somewhere between the two, their downy coat slick to their forms with the yolk of the eggs they had just burst from. They were as unique as their mother, that was obvious even now, whilst one had only two eyes like it's father, a pair of them had four, the secondary pair small and blinking behind their first, and the final chick, darker than the rest had six just like her mother. The two parents stared in wonder, looking up to Quinn and Swain for a moment, as close to tears as it was possible for birds to come. The Maid, Annetta chose now to approach, holding in her hands a basin of warm water and a soft white towel.

"I thought I'd clean the chicks up for you, get them dried off." She didn't address the Tyrant or Quinn this time, but rather the two birds directly, her soft smile matching that of the man beside her to a T, neither of the new parents made a move to stop her, Quinn and Swain however moved to help. Quinn springing lithely down from her spot on the branch and gently taking one of the newborns, the young bird wriggling and cheeping in the palms of her hands.

"Shhhh, it's okay. Your Mommy and daddy are right here." she cooed to the bird, Swain and Annetta similarly occupied with chicks of their own, Swain holding one in each hand. They lowered them into the warm waters, the chicks calming as they were brought near one another, Valor and Beatrice sitting either side of the bowl on the rim, watching as their children had the sticky yolk gently rubbed from their coats then slowly dried off with the plush towel. Quinn couldn't stop herself from grinning like a little girl being given a pony as the chick's down puffed up, so wonderfully fluffy to the touch as she gently picked one back up, putting it back down in the nest , quickly joined by its siblings and mother. Valor meanwhile hopped to Quinn, the bird wrapping his wings about her head, hanging their as he let out a loud ecstatic screech, his children attempting to copy him with little success. Quinn laughed as she hugged her best friend back, petting down the birds back. A small chuckle escaped Quinn's lips, but no words could find their way to join them, there were no words needed right now. She held Valor close for a good time. Valor had been everything to her for so many years, a brother to replace the one she'd lost to the forest she eventually found him in, but also a son, a wonderful young bird she'd raised herself, and a creature she couldn't imagine being without. A special kind of pride filled Quinn's heart as she embraced Valor, the pride of a parent seeing her children have children of their own. A parent who was confident their children would do a fantastic job of raising them to. She put her arm beneath him so he could hop from her wrist as she released him, the eagle bouncing back onto the branch beside his new love. Beatrice had settled into their nest and Valor happily joined her, the chicks nestling into their parents chests as the two lovebirds nuzzled each other with quiet happy coo's.

Quinn and Swain likely would have stood there forever, basking in the happy moment for as long as they could, but Annetta gently took both by the elbow.

"Come on Quinn, Sir. We should leave them to their children for now. Every parent wants time alone with their children..." She urged, a faint pang of long forgotten pain entering her voice at the second sentence. If Jericho took note he gave no sign, merely nodding and following her lead.

Quinn however gently eased from her grip, too wrapped up in the moment to notice the hidden tones of Annetta's voice. She leaned up, giving Valor a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm so proud of you Valor..." She murmured, smiling at him and Beatrice for a moment before following after Jericho and Annetta...

Elsewhere in the city, a young couple were finally able to be together without reprisal, and were using this wonderful opportunity to sleep through the day in one another arms.

Garen awoke slowly, right around mid-day, though when he first woke he was sure he must still be dreaming, as there curled into his chest was Katarina, the blade of Noxus and the love of his life. The young assassin had taken to using him as a pillow at some point during the night and in no way did Garen have a problem with this. His hand began softly stroking through her long blood red hair, the new champion of Noxus indulging in the peaceful moment, but eventually his hands ministrations woke the girl and, yawning, she looked up at him, blinking the sleep from her eyes as a faint smile found its way to her lips.

"Good morning..." She murmured drowsily, her hand taking his and giving it a gentle squeeze. There was the faint thump, thump, thump of a person's footfalls going by the door.

"Good morning to you to." He smiled, giving her a soft kiss. There was a knock on the door, Garen lifted his head in alarm.

"It's mid-afternoon." Came the bored, distant voice of Talon through the closed door, Katarina's shadow, before footfalls signalled him making his way off once more. Both sets of eyes stayed watching the door for a moment, when that moment passed, the next was filled with an outburst of laughter from Katarina, that startling Garen almost as much as Talon had.

"Come on, I guess we've wasted away enough of the day." She teased, sliding from his arms and out of the bed, Garen spent a moment longer just enjoying the view before he to slid from bed. Dressing in a simple white button-less shirt and dark blue pants, Katarina dressing in a military pair of pants and a white frock that looked like something Miss Fortune would wear, though unlike Miss Fortune, Katarina did up every button.

"How does some breakfast sound?" Katarina asked over her shoulder as she walked to the door, slippers moving soundlessly across the floor.

"That sounds fantastic Kat. Though I think at this point it'd be lunch."

The two began walking through the halls of the Du Coteau manor, both hand and blade inwardly still jumping for joy for one simple reason. They were finally together, for months now they had kept their feelings for one another hidden from the world for fear of reprisal, but now that reprisal had come and gone so now they could simply enjoy being with one another. Despite all the pain Garen had been through, losing the man who'd been instrumental in shaping the warrior and man he'd go on to be- Quinn's father, losing his city and home and being betrayed by his best and closest friend. Garen could still see the silver lining of what had happened, and that silver lining had fiery red hair and an even more fiery personality.

Arriving in the dining room, the two were quickly laden down with a lavish lunch of marinated chicken and cheeses, hot coffee delivered to them moments after. The dining room was a small, rather quiet affair, a door to the side leading to the kitchen and wide windows on the other letting in a cool afternoon breeze. Talon was seated at the other end of the table, sipping at a cup of tea, his feet callously perched on the table as he leaned back in his chair, reading a book in his lap, he looked up to give them a polite nod, the assassins face as impassive as always. Garen nodded back, Katarina giving a smile and a wave, and for a time a silence settled over the dining hall as all enjoyed their own private meals.

After dabbing the juices of his lunch off his lips, Garen looked back up at Talon, he had fought the assassin, he had fought alongside the assassin, he had killed the assassin. But all of these took place in the league, and all were not exactly social activities and Garen realised he had never properly been introduced to the Shadows Blade. Now was as good a time as any he thought to himself, seeing as it looked like they'd be living together from now on. So he stood up from his place beside Katarina, padding over to Talon, the assassin looking up as Garen's foot prompted a creak from the floor.

"Yes?" He asked, eyes half hidden by the hood of the dull purple coat he wore in place of his battle wear bladed mantle, his tone like Garen was a teacher setting homework such was the apathy.

Garen paused for a moment, before deciding to venture on as best he could, offering a hand to the much shorter and thinner but in no way less dangerous man. "I just thought we should get properly introduced, seeing as we're both living together now." He said, doing his very best to seem as pleasant as possible, an affable smile on his honest features. This only prompted a quiet sigh from Talon who kicked himself off from the table, stepping out of his chair at the peak of its lift, his book snapping closed in one hand and the other gripping Garen's paw as the chair legs thumped back into the carpet behind him.

"Talon, scion of house Du Coteau and lifeguard to the father of this house, until he is located I am instead Katarina's guard. Pleasantries done with?" He inquired, eyebrow up not at Garen but at Katarina.

"Heh heh, go on Talon you can get out of here." She called from where she still sat, finishing off Garen's coffee, the assassin nodded gratefully. Letting go of Garen and walking from the room, but not before whispering a single threatening sentence in Garen's ear.

"If you ever hurt her in anyway, I will skin you alive." Once that was said, the door clicked shut behind him, Katarina still chuckling softly as she took Garen's arm.

"He isn't exactly the most sociable, don't try and make him be. He might warm to you in time. Might still be a little bit sore about the last league match you killed him in." As she spoke, she led him through a glass door, out onto the balcony, Noxus spreading out below them. Buildings so packed together they were like pathways in and of themselves, rooftops forming streets, hills and pathways far above the city goers. The two settled at the balcony, watching over the city for a team, Garen drinking in the essence of the city, his city, and with Katarina at his side, it didn't seem half bad at all...

Far below those rooftop streets, and the young couple, the famed executioner was wiling away his day in a rather different way. Out in the long stretch of grass that served as his backyard and practice yard, Draven held a spinning blade in either hand, his face lacking its usual pompous grin, dead-set in concentration as his eyes centred on the target at the other end of the range, a good twenty metres away.

He threw a blade, casting his arm out and releasing it with practiced precision. The blade flew straight and true, it's constant gyration furthering its range, it impacted on the target, dead centre in the wooden mannequin's head, rebounding off it the blade flew high and Draven caught it as it fell, the blade still spinning on its central ring. He himself then spun on his heel flinging both blades together, parallel to the ground they impacted off either side of the mannequin's abdomen, effectively bisecting it before bouncing off against the walls towards Draven, but he'd got the timing just off, and both flew past him to lie flat on the ground.

Draven cursed himself vehemently, walking to retrieve them, his angered shouts reaching someone else's ears out the front of his home.

Darius had come to his brothers home to check up on him, his brother having been rather reserved with him lately, contrary to his usual bragging self. However undeniably infuriating Draven was, he was the only family Darius had, which meant- as the older brother- it was his job to look out for him. Hearing the curses he furrowed his brow, using his copy of Draven's house key and stepping in. Moving through Draven's home quickly he made his way to the back door, poking his head out. Draven had retrieved his axes by now, and had just caught one on its rebound, changing his usual pattern by throwing it under arm, the blade took the head of the mannequin clean off, bouncing off the wall far above and behind it. Darius stepped out of the doorway quickly, catching the blade as it fell towards him.

"Hmn." He murmured as he stopped the blade spinning, squeezing the lock trigger in the sides of the handle. He couldn't stop himself from smiling as he looked at his brother, tossing the blade in the air and catching it between his fingers and his thumb, holding it out to him handle first.

"I haven't seen you training like this in a long time Draven, what's gotten into you?" He asked, his voice lighter than it usually was, more cheery. It was good to see his brother training again, rather than just assuming he was the greatest there was.

"That bitch." Was his brothers bitter response, taking the blade from his brother without ceasing the one in his opposite hand's spinning.

"Hmn? What woman has rankled you this time Draven? Someone turn you down?" He asked jokingly, a faint smirk on his chiselled features.

"The Demacian girl, Quinn. The tyrant's new faaaavourite. Yours to it seems." Draven replied sarcastically, tossing an axe so hard the mannequin fell over, the axe still embedded in its chest.

Darius sighed quietly, walking to his brother. "Draven..." He murmured, the younger of the blood brothers spun to face him, a growl in his throat and his moustache trailing behind his whipping head.

"Yes?" He demanded, internally fuming with his brother for having become so close to the Demacian woman, for being friendly with her and even defending her when she- in Draven's eyes- had gone out of her way to make Draven look bad and show him up.

"Draven, your my brother. That means I'm always going to be here to look out for you and look after you, but that also means I have to stop you from getting into trouble, stop you being an idiot and make you see reason. Hell, being who we are, it's my job to protect people from you as well. But I'm still your brother. I have nothing against Quinn, she's a nice girl and if you'd get over yourself for a moment and admit you were the one at fault in the bar, I'm sure you could get on fine." Darius put his hand down on his brothers shoulder, as ever towering over him, his brother was fit, well muscled and handsome, but still he barely came up to his giant of a brothers shoulders.

Draven swept the arm away, snarling as he turned away. "Just let me train Darius, I need to prove I'm better than her. She's shown me up enough, and I'm gonna put her in her bloody place." He walked to the mannequin, yanking the axe from its chest and tossing the mannequin over the wall into the alleyway beside his home.

Despite the accusatory tone his brother levelled at him, Darius still had to smile. Draven never trained, and honestly, he was going soft. He never really had a rival, someone to strive to beat. Maybe his hatred of Quinn could actually serve to humble his brother, and improve his skills at the same time. Someone who destroyed the illusion of him forever and always being the very best. Maybe, with a bit of pushing, Quinn would even offer some friendly competition. Rivalry was often the start of a good friendship and Draven didn't really have friends. He had cronies, and his brother, and that was about it, and sometimes Darius couldn't help but despair for his brother, his pride only serving to drive him into loneliness. Darius let himself out of the executioners home, calling out as he left.

"Come see me later Draven. When you've calmed down." He got no response, but his brother, despite all his faults, was at least loyal to him, even if he didn't always listen to him. So he was confident he could expect Draven at his doorstep this evening, but for now, he'd leave his brother to himself.

As Darius walked off to do whatever it was he did for the tyrant for most of the day, Draven watched him go from the doorway, once he'd turned at the end of the road. Draven stepped out, slamming the door behind him and stalking off to the nearest clothing store... He needed more mannequins.

Far away, out past the borders of Noxus in the land Garen and Quinn had so recently fled, Prince Jarvan IV Lightbringer stood on the balcony of his office in his families palace, elbows on the guard railing as he looked out over the city of Demacia. His city. Behind him, a lowly clerk sat with a notebook open in his lap, frantically noting down all the prince said as he had requested, fetching the clerk from his work place elsewhere in the palace keeping track of taxation figures.

"Over the course of the last month or so, it has been revealed to me that the citizens of Demacia- the glittering city brought to such prosperity by my families hand- even some amongst my personal elite, hold sympathies for the enemy, for the dread nation Noxus and its own people. Even my most trusted companion, Garen Crownguard has betrayed me over a Noxian assassin's bosom." He orated to himself, only aware of the peasant behind him as a record keeper, a servant.

He paused for a time before continuing, his gaze going away from the city to stare at the rank pin he held in the palm of his right hand, 'royal life ward' it read, the words inscribed in white gold over a miniaturised Demacian flag. It had been Garen's until his friend had committed treason, betrayed Demacia... Betrayed him. Garen had lost many a man to the Noxian army, he'd seen the suffering they wreaked upon the lands, the harm they brought to the peasant folk under Demacia's protection. Why would he do this? Why would he join them? All Jarvan's life he had known Garen to be a man of honour, strength and values, all of the values Demacia held most dear. Yet now he had abandoned all of them for some Noxian harlot, joining the forces of evil and turning his back on the weak he had defended for so long, on his family, his friends, on him... Could Jarvan really have been so wrong about him all these years?

"By the power vested in me as commandant of the Demacian military, and heir to the throne. Any and all sympathies towards the enemy will result in immediate detainment and summary execution. We cannot allow such ideas to spread through the citizenry with two of our nation's champions having so recently defected. Lest we risk mass defection and riot's, Quinn and Garen's actions could reduce Demacia into anarchy. This will not be allowed. We must stand firm in the face of this latest crisis, we must show strength and show those Noxian scum that taking those two from us has not reduced Demacia in the slightest. Raid's will begin on their borders, crushing their outposts and pillaging their resources. We Demacian's are not to be trifled with and it will be ensured that they are more than sure of this." His speech temporarily over, he took a breath in, refilling his chest as he turned to look at the scribe.

"Did you get all of that down?" He asked, a polite smile on his lips belying the rage and sadness that warred in his heart.

"Yes sir, just give me a moment." The clerk stammered out swiftly, looking up at Jarvan and pushing his thick rimmed glasses up his nose in one motion. "You said rather a lot, rather quickly." He apologised, before looking down, continuing to write.

Jarvan the fourth nodded politely, watching the small man write for a moment, his ink tipped pen flitting across the page furiously, locked in its single purpose. Occasionally the scribe would take it from the page, dipping it in the ink well beside his folded legs and scraping excess off against the rim before continuing to write. Never taking his eyes from the page. Jarvan had an admiration for men like this, small in the world but sure of their purpose, their place in everything, masters of their craft. Sometimes Jarvan envied people like him, they did not have to worry about the big picture, they had him and people like him to do it for them, the decisions were out of their hands, sheep left to enjoy their lives as the Sheppard's made sure they could keep doing so. He pitied them for that same reason, so blissfully ignorant of what conspired around them, of what he did to keep them safe.

"And done. What would you like me to do with this sir?" Said the scribe, looking up at the royal figure before him through his spectacles, eyes a watery blur through their lens.

That caused Jarvan to pause for a brief moment, considering his words before he spoke. "Make copies of everything from 'by the power vested in me' onwards, speak to the couriers and order for it to be delivered to all mayors of towns under Demacian rule and commanders of our military. Make it clear that there are to be no exceptions to that rule, any voiced Noxian affections are to be punished immediately with imprisonment and subsequent execution."

"Yes sir." The scribe said, collecting up his tools, putting a stopper on his ink bottle and cleaning the ink from his pen, both disappearing into the pockets of his robes, the notebook held under one arm. "Will there be anything else sir?" He said, turning to leave the balcony.

"Scribe... Do you know where the Crownguard family are now?" Jarvan asked absently, looking out over the city.

"They're um... They're under house arrest until your father, the King, is confident they share none of Garen's sympathies?" The scribe said questioningly, unsure of where this line of conversation had come from.

"Yes... Yes they are. I'll be going to see Miss Luxanna later... You can go Scribe, thank you for your time." Jarvan said distantly, looking over the city to the manor of the Crownguard family, thoughts tumbling through his head, matters of trust, pain and even the League. Would he allow her to fight there before he was sure of her loyalty... He was not sure, that would be a matter he'd discuss with the advisors later, but for now. He just wanted some time alone.

"Of course my liege, fare thee well." The Scribe said as he absconded from the balcony, heading to fulfil his orders. Jarvan waited until he heard the door close behind him before walking back to his office, picking up a bottle of the finest Demacian liquor from a cabinet. He took a deep slug from it, holding it out and staring into its caramel depths.

"I need your guidance old friend... What do I do now?" He muttered to himself, looking at a portrait on his wall, Garen and himself as children, their fathers hands laid proudly upon their shoulders. "Why must you make me do this...?"

Even further away, outside the jurisdiction of either of the two nations, a young summoner was getting out of bed, her room deep within the confines of the institute of war. Madgova dressed in her dull purple robes after taking a shower and brushing her teeth. Yawning widely, the shy girl padded out of her room.

Arriving in the mess-hall, she sat down by herself, having a quick breakfast so she could hurry along to practice before some of the other young summoners showed up. She wasn't exactly the most popular person around here...

Head down she quickly scarfed up her porridge, it had a good amount of honey and sugar poured over the top. More filling than the pancakes and other treats, but just as sweet, she considered it the perfect breakfast. Looking up, dabbing at her lips with a hanky she noticed for the first time she wasn't alone in the mess hall, another summoner was sitting further down the bench, feet up on it and a book in his lap. Stefan. He looked oddly down, a distance away from his usual cocky grin, despite what a mean person he was, she knew few people trained harder than him, so it was odd to see him relaxing like this.

Gulping down her trepidation as curiosity fought its way to the fore, Madgova walked over, her voice breaking out from her lips.

"Stefan...? You'd usually be training right now. Is um... Is something wrong?" She asked quietly.

"What's the point?" He asked back, eyes staring up at her from beneath his dark fringe.

"What... What do you mean? You always trained the hardest out of all of us."

"Madgova, don't you pay attention to the news at all. Remember our last match? Where Quinn's pet featherhead attacked Jarvan?" He had a bit of a smile back on his lips now, seeming eager to spout his predicitons.

"Yeah?"

"Quinn's gone to Noxus now Madgova, same as Garen, and you know what I think? I think a wars coming. One that the league won't even have a chance to be a part of."

(Well guys. That's the end of part one, I hoped you all enjoyed this tale, I know I certainly enjoyed writing it. By the way, I read all the reviews and I really appreciate you sending them in, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me. Part two will be a while, but don't worry, you still have the prologue story to look forward to before that.)

-Alma.


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